E 


LI  B  RAR.Y 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF    ILLINOIS 


L~ 


fe*ft 


aMKj?? 


: 


1887. 


CINCI  NN  ATI,  O. 
ST.  LOUIS,   MO. 


THE  belief  that  a  book  whose  scope  is  suggested  by  the  title 
of  the  present  volume  will  be  of  great  value  and  interest  to 
all,  is  the  reason  why  this  work  has  been  given  to  the  public. 
It  is  not  the  effort  of  one  individual,  but  of  many  gleaners  in  the 
field  which  it  explores.  It  has  been  compiled  from  various 
reliable  sources,  and  treats  wholly  upon  facts.  It  is  believed 
that  it  is  the  only  book  of  its  kind  that  has  been  published,  and 
the  compiler  trusts  that  it  will  be  found  helpful  to  those  who 
are  seeking  positions  of  usefulness,  and  valuable  to  those  who 
are  already  established,  while  to  those  fortunate  ones  who  do 
not  need  to  step  beyond  the  horizon  of  home,  it  will  give  a 
deeper  interest  in  "  Woman's  Work,"  and  cause  them  to  feel 
a  personal  pride  in  her  labor  and  achievements. 

"  What  can  a  woman  do?"  Forty-three  or  forty-four  years 
ago  Miss  Harriet  Martineau  is  reported  to  have  said  that,  in 
Massachusetts,  one  of  the  most  highly  civilized  and  advanced 
communities  in  the  world,  there  were  but  seven  industries  open 
to  women  who  wanted  to  work.  They  might  keep  boarders,  or 
set  type,  or  teach  needlework,  or  tend  looms  in  cotton  mills,  or 
fold  and  stitch  in  book  binderies.  This  statement  was  rather 
too  restrictive,  because  there  were  other  forms  of  labor  open  to 
them,  especially  those  of  the  needle.  But  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  opportunities  of  self-support  for  women  by  honest  indus- 


iv  PREFATORY. 

try  in  some  other  way  than  that  of  domestic  service  were  very 
few  and  very  limited.  In  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  which 
was  the  scene  of  Miss  Martineau's  reputed  observation,  it  is  now 
announced  that  there  are  two  hundred  and  eighty-four  occupa- 
tions open  to  women,  instead  of  seven,  and  that  251,158  women 
are  earning  their  own  living  in  these  occupations,  receiving  from 
$150  to  $3,000  every  year.  This  computation  does  not  include 
amateurs,  or  mothers  and  daughters  in  the  household,  and  of 
course  excludes  domestic  service. 

As  new  occupations  for  women  are  continually  becoming 
available,  some  well  known  professions  are  omitted  from  this 
volume  to  make  room  for  newer  and  more  responsible  ones. 
The  writer  has  endeavored  to  illustrate  the  many  employments 
given,  by  facts  and  curious  incidents  gathered  from  various 
sources  and  from  personal  observation,  thus  making  the  work 
peculiarly  interesting,  instructive,  and  amusing. 

In  "  Women  as  Poets,"  will  be  found  some  of  the  rarest  and 
choicest  poems  in  the  English  language,  and  in  many  instances 
the  biographical  note  was  contributed  especially  for  this  vol- 
ume by  the  author  of  the  poem  selected,  thus  furnishing 
much  reliable  information  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  So  many 
pure  and  beautiful  thoughts  in  rhyme,  which  have  echoed  and 
re-echoed  throughout  the  world,  making  it  better  for  their 
being,  must  add  to  the  value  of  the  book.  The  kingdom  of 
home  has  not  been  overlooked;  the  aim  of  the  writer — indeed 
the  great  object  of  the  work — is  to  elevate  and  glorify  the  hum- 
blest home,  and  it  is  her  earnest  wish  that  "  What  Can  a  Woman 
Do "  may  be  found  a  welcome  visitor  into  every  home  in  the 
land,  there  to  accomplish  its  mission  of  usefulness  and  instruc- 
tion. 

DKTBOIT,  Oct.  15,  1883. 


SS£>, 


WOMAN'S  WOKK H 

WAGES  IN  NEW  YORK  AND  ELSEWHERE 18 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  LITERATURE 25 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  JOURNALISM 34 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  LAW &* 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  MEDICINE 65 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  Music 81 

GOVERNMENT  CLERKS 91 

A  LADY  GOVERNMENT  OFFICIAL 99 

WOMEN  OF  ENTERPRISE 104 

COLORING  PHOTOGRAPHS 120 

WOMEN  AS  WOOD  ENGRAVERS 130 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  TELEGRAPHY 136 

LADY  CANVASSERS 144 

ART  AND  INDUSTRIAL  EXCHANGES 149 


VI  CONTENTS. 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  ELOCUTION . , i59 

THE  PROFESSION  OF  NURSING 169 

GARDENING 177 

RAISING  POULTRY 185 

BEE  KEEPING 193  | 

DRESSMAKERS  AND  DRESSMAKING 210 

THE  HOUSEKEEPER 220 

A  GOOD  MANAGER. 234 

THE  SCIKNCE  OF  COOKERY 246 

THE  NEW  COOK 261 

KEEPING  BOARDERS 268 

STORY  OF  A  SUMMER  BOARDER , 276 

VALUE  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE 285 

THE  KINGDOM  OF  HOME ,  295 


JPOEIMIS. 

BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC ...  811 

ROCK  ME  TO  SLEEP 312 

Answer  to  ROCK  ME  TO  SLEEP 314 

KENTUCKY  BELLE 315 

DEATH  AND  THE  YOUTH 320 

AFTER  THE  BALL 321 

LAMENT  OF  THE  IRISH  EMIGRANT 324 

ON  THE  SHORES  OF  TENNESSEE 326 

BRAVE  KATE  SHELLY 329 

LABOR  is  WORSHIP 331 

THE  YOUTHFUL  PILOT. 838 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

OVER  THE  RIVER 335 

IF. 337 

SENT  TO  HEAVEN 338 

SOMEBODY'S  DARLING 341 

DRIVING  HOME  THE  Cows 343 

THE  OLD  ARM  CHAIB 345 

PHILIP,  MY  KING 346 

LEGEND  OF  THE  BABIES  AND  THE  STORKS 348 

MEASURING  THE  BABY 349 

FAITH  AND  REASON 351 

REQUIESCAM 353 

HANNAH  BINDING  SHOES 354 

CURFEW  MUST  NOT  RING  TO-NIGHT 356 

THE  GUEST 359 

THE  VOICE  OF  THE  POOR 361 

THE  BETTER  LAND 363 

GONE  is  GONE,  AND  DEAD  is  DEAD 364 

THE  Two  MYSTERIES 366 

HEARTBREAK  HILL 367 

THE  HIGH  TIDE  ON  THE  COAST  OF  LINCOLNSHIRE 370 

THE  SLEEP 375 

ONLY  WAITING 377 

LIFE 379 

PRAYER  OF  MARY  STUART,  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS 380 

THE  GRAY  SWAN 381 

HAPPY  WOMEN 383 

LIFE,  I  KNOW  NOT  WHAT  THOU  ART 384 

ROBIN  ADAIR 384 

KNOCKING.  .  386 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

THE  EARLY  BLUE-BIRD  .........................................  889 

RELEASED  .......................................................  390 

THE  LAND  OF  THE  LEAL  ........................................  923 

A  MOTHER'S  DAY  ................................................  394 

OLD  AGE  COMING  ................................................  398 

IDA  LEWIS  ....................................................  401 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  WOMEN  .....................................  407 

UNMARRIED  WOMEN  .............................................  416 

DUTIES  AND  RESPONSIBILITIES  OF  WOMEN  ........................  431 

A  SERMON  WITHOUT  A  TEXT  .....................................  435 

THREE  MAGIC  WORDS  ..............................  ............  438 

INFLUENCE  OF  WIFE  AND  MOTHER  ...............................  441 

MOTHER  AT  THE  HELM  .........................................  446 

EDUCATION  AND  MANNERS  OF  OUR  GIRLS  ........................  455 

THE  MODEL  GIRL  ..............................................  460 

THE  MANNERS  OF  OUR  BOYS  .....................................  465 

A  PROFESSION  FOR  OUR  BOYS  ....................................  473 

THE  GOOD  WIFE  ...............................................  478 

THE  GOOD  FATHER  .............................................  486 

LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  .......................................  493 


THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN  BY  NOTABLE  WRITERS. 601 


DH  Srrjarj's  *  DC  orlj. 

"  The  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  moves  the  world." 

A  woman  cannot  do  the  thing  she  ought. 

Which  means,  whatever  perfect  thing  she  can 

In  life,  in  art,  in  science,  but  she  fears 

To  let  the  perfect  action  take  her  part 

And  rest  there;  she  must  prove  what  she  can  do 

Before  she  does  it." — AURORA  LEIGH. 


LESSEE,  says  Carlyle,   "blessed  is 
he  who  has  found  his  work;  let  him 
seek  no  other  blessedness. ' '    Equally 
blessed  is  the  woman  who  has  found 
her  work.     Life  is,  indeed,  a  burden 
to  one   who,   day  after  day,   must 
plod  for  a  mere  existence  at  some 
work  for  which  there  is  no  special  adaptation, 
but  it  is  peculiarly  trying  and  discouraging  to 
a  woman,  who  cannot  choose  for  herself  the 
profession  or  vocation  in  life  which  will  give 
her  the  most  pleasure  to  follow  in  the  toilsome 
effort  of  winning  her  own  bread.     "We  all 
know,"  says  a  popular  writer  on  these  topics, 
"  how  much  happier  that  woman  is,  who  can 
cheerfully  take  up  the  work  she  likes,  than 
the  one  who  toils  daily  at  uncongenial  employ- 


12  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

ment."  The  only  remedy  for  this  evil  is  to  choose  when 
youth,  free  hearts  and  minds,  leisure  and  means  are  all 
within  demand,  yielding  their  best  to  educate  these 
young  women  in  some  specialty,  by  which  they  may 
support  themselves  when  it  is  necessary.  It  is  a  great 
mistake  in  the  management  of  children  when  the  boys 
only  are  educated  to  become  self-helpers,  while  the  girls 
are  taught  to  write  gracefully,  acquire  various  accom- 
plishments, do  a  little  light  housework,  and  fit  them- 
selves to  live  as  merely  ornamental  members  of  society. 
A  girl  is  not  expected  to  earn  anything,  while  a  boy, 
even  if  he  already  has  a  fortune,  must  be  proficient  in 
some  trade  or  profession,  or  he  is  not  considered  of  much 
account.  At  least  he  must  know  enough  to  be  able  to 
invest  his  own  money  with  prudence. 

Now  take  the  world  as  we  find  it.  Are  not  the  major- 
ity of  the  women  in  a  community  in  great  need  of  some 
money-making  talent  ?  How  many  do  we  know  in  the 
average  society  of  even  a  prosperous  village  who  have  a 
competency  provided  for  them,  with  no  thought  or  care 
of  their  own  except  to  spend  it  prudently.  Would  not 
a  great  deal  of  the  small  pinching  and  distressing  priva- 
tion be  done  away  with,  if  every  woman  had  her  own 
private  purse,  with  which  to  supplement  the  money  sup- 
plied to  her  for  household  expenses,  and  which  is  often 
so  inadequate  ?  Or  if,  when  thrown  suddenly  on  her  own 
resources,  she  has  the  faculty  of  doing  one  thing  well, 
shall  she  hesitate  between  the  honest  labor  of  her  own 
hands,  and  the  doled-out  bread  of  charitable  relatives? 
The  day  has  gone  by  when  a  woman  who  enters  any  pur- 
suit of  industry  loses  caste.  If  our  great  grandfathers 


WOMAN'S  WORK.  13 

could  revisit  the  earth,  what  would  astonish  them  quite  as 
much  as  the  telegraph,  railroads,  telephone,  and  the  elec- 
tric lights,  is  the  position  that  woman  has  taken  and  is 
so  nobly  sustaining  under  all  these  difficulties  of  non- 
fitness  and  lack  of  business  education.  It  might  not  sur- 
prise them  so  much  to  find  lady  cashiers,  lady  bankers, 
lady  clerks,  but  what  would  they  say  to  women  lectur- 
ing in  public  and  filling  great  halls,  to  women  preaching 
in  the  pulpit  and  filling  pastorates,  to  women  as  school 
commissioners,  women  appointed  by  governors  to  respon- 
sible positions  on  commissions  of  charities,  prisons  and 
reformatory  institutions,  to  women  as  practicing  physi- 
cians, counseling  with  the  wisest  of  the  faculty  of  the 
opposite  sex.  If  they  could  see  these  facts  as  they  are, 
the  results  would  not  astonish  them  so  much  as  the 
indomitable  courage  and  perseverance  which  led  them 
through  difficulties  which  were  almost  insurmountable. 

THE  INITIATIVE   STEP. 

How  to  educate  young  girls  so  that  they  can  become 
efficient  co-workers  with  their  brothers  in  the  commer- 
cial walks  of  life,  is  a  question  that  must  interest  every 
mother  in  the  country  to-day.  It  is  a  perplexing  ques- 
tion, because  every  mother  naturally  dreads  the  ordeal 
of  a  business  experience  for  the  young  girl  just  budding 
into  womanhood,  who  has  no  idea  of  the  hardships  of 
life.  If  the  mother  has  been  a  woman  of  broad  experi- 
ence there  will  be  little  for  the  daughter  to  unlearn; 
she  will  not  be  hampered  at  every  step  by  a  dread  of 
Mrs.  Grundy,  and  even  though  her  field  of  observation 
has  been  limited  to  the  happy  circumscribed  walls  of 


14  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

home,  she  will  have  no  narrow  prejudices  or  small  bigo- 
tries of  character  to  overcome;  a  brilliant  coterie  of  women 
has  led  the  way  into  new  fields,  where  a  woman  working 
for  her  daily  bread  need  feel  no  shame  or  embarrassment, 
or  trammel  herself  unnecessarily  with  the  set  formulas 
of  a  dead  past.  The  world  is  full  of  women  who  must 
work  or  starve,  and  it  is  for  these  women  particularly 
that  a  liberal  education  is  desired — one  that  will  lead  to 
their  advancement  in  a  pecuniary  way.  There  are  true 
womanly  women,  who  may  not  have  another  opportu- 
nity of  making  themselves  a  home,  for  whom  providence 
has  furnished  no  mate — women  who  are  denied  marriage, 
or  who  prefer  a  life  of  single  independence  to  taking  up 
with  one  lame  offer;  or,  it  may  be,  they  are  already  mar- 
ried, but  have  no  taste  or  strength  for  domestic  work, 
and  prefer  to  bear  the  mutual  burden  in  their  own  way. 
There  are  other  women  who  have  time  from  the  duties 
and  obligations  of  housework  to  earn  a  little  pin  money, 
and  turn  an  honest  penny,  for  their  own  profit.  There 
are  several  hundred  different  methods  by  which  a  woman 
can  earn  her  own  livelihood,  and  she  should  study  them 
at  her  leisure,  and  educate  herself  in  that  one  for  which 
she  is  the  best  adapted.  She  does  not  require  the  genius 
of  a  Napoleon  to  succeed  in  any  one  of  them;  very  ordi- 
nary qualities  can  be  grafted  and  improved  on  the  tree 
of  knowledge;  much  depends  on  the  earnestness  of  pur- 
pose and  power  of  concentration  which  she  brings  to  her 
work. 

BUSINESS   EDUCATION. 

It  is  an  established  truth,  that  a  woman  who  is  compe- 
tent in  any  one  branch  of  business  will  always  find  a 


WOMAN'S  WORK.  15 

situation  open  to  her,  if  she  seeks  it.  In  a  contest, 
skilled  labor  will  always  succeed,  against  the  assump- 
tions and  pretences  of  ignorance. 

"  He  is  thrice  armed  who  has  his  quarrel  just;"  so  she, 
who  can  demand  work  in  return  for  a  diploma  of  merit, 
is  the  most  likely  to  succeed  in  the  struggle  for  place. 
The  experience  of  education  in  any  sphere  of  labor  gives 
preparatory  strength  to  achieve  laudable  results.  True, 
it  involves  much  arduous  and  patient  endeavor  to  attain 
such  a  position,  but  once  there  half  the  battle  is  fought. 

Among  the  many  female  applicants  for  work,  there  is 
no  class  more  dreaded  than  that  of  reduced  ladies. 
Why?  Because  they  have  no  specialty.  The  higher 
education  and  many  accomplishments  of  the  poor  gen- 
tlewoman only  add  to  her  embarrassments  and  leave  her 
but  one  profession — that  of  teacher.  It  may  be  of  music 
or  embroidery,  or  an  infant  school,  for  any  of  which  she 
is  unfitted  by  either  nature  or  inclination.  The  number 
of  incompetent  women  who  attempt  to  conduct  a  busi- 
ness they  know  absolutely  nothing  about,  is  almost 
incredible,  and  they  work  harder,  to  make  ignominious 
failures,  than  the  educated  woman  does  to  succeed.  But 
in  one  sense  they  are  themselves  educators;  they  are 
many  of  them  pioneers  in  the  work  they  have  chosen, 
and  their  mistakes  serve  as  warnings  to  other  women 
who,  armed  with  their  energy,  added  to  a  practical 
knowledge  of  business  in  its  many  details,  will  accom- 
plish all  that  they  failed  to  do. 

TRAINING  SCHOOLS. 

There  are  colleges  now  in  nearly  all  States,  where  girls 


16  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAX   DO. 

are  educated  in  all  the  important  brancnes  which  young 
men  study  before  entering  upon  the  profession  of  a  life- 
time, such  as  book-keeping,  stenography,  telegraphy, 
and  other  branches,  where  she  learns  to  calculate  with 
rapidity;  to  write  a  plain  business  hand;  to  concentrate 
her  thoughts  on  useful,  instead  of  ornamental  work;  to 
understand  many  of  the  intricate  theories  involved  in 
commercial  life,  which,  to  the  average  woman,  are  prob- 
lems unsolved  and  unsolvable.  The  young  men  who  are 
her  associates  may  at  first  feel  bored  over  this  new 
assumption  of  knowledge,  and  miss  the  more  frivolous 
part  of  her  nature,  which  served  them  as  recreation,  but 
they  will  soon  understand  that  her  development  of 
strength  need  not  detract  from  her  womanliness  or  make 
her  one  degree  less  lovable.  She  will  be  less  dependent 
but  more  companionable.  Her  work  itself  is  becoming 
more  and  more  adapted  to  her  own  tastes  and  her  ability 
to  perform  it,  and  it  is  a  duty  imposed  on  all  who  have 
tie  power  to  advance  her  interests  to  unite  by  word  and 
deed  in  clearing  away  all  false  ideas  of  the  true  woman's 
position  in  the  world.  The  working  woman  of  the 
future  will  have  one  great  advantage  over  her  prototype 
of  the  past — she  will  have  the  advantage  of  thorough 
training  schools  and  industrial  colleges,  such  as  the  trus- 
tees of  the  late  John  Simmons  of  Boston  are  pledged  to 
build,  for  which  purpose  Mr.  Simmons  bequeathed  one 
million  of  dollars.  What  Canon  Kingsley  calls  the 
lower  education  of  women  has  been  shamefully  neg- 
lected, and  the  fault  is  largely  due  to  themselves.  They 
have  cultivated  accomplishments  at  the  expense  of  valu- 
able knowledge.  Accomplishments  are  good  in  their 


WOMAN'S  WORK.  17 

place,  but  if  half  the  girls  who  spend  hours  every  day  in 
thrumming  the  piano,  with  no  taste  or  capacity  for 
music,  would  invest  the  same  time  and  money  in  one 
practical  study,  they  would  realize  a  much  better  profit 
on  their  capital,  and  would  never  come  to  be  regarded  as 
dependent  incumbrances  by  their  friends  and  relatives. 
"What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?"  is  literally  the  cry  of 
thousands  of  young  women,  who  without  friends  or  pro- 
tectors, find  themselves  facing  the  world — the  severe, 
critical  world — that  is  so  kind  and  flattering  to  the  suc- 
cessful, so  cruel  and  pitiless  to  the  helpless  and  improvi- 
dent of  either  sex.  The  financial  test  is  a  strong  argu- 
ment of  success,  for  employers  are  slow  to  part  with 
their  money  for  inferior  work,  and  this  is  an  age  of  com- 
petition. One  inefficient  worker  brings  to  naught,  theo- 
retically, the  practical  services  of  a  dozen  competent 
ones.  The  employers  judge  other  women  by  her  iso- 
lated case,  and  refuse  to  give  occupation  to  one  whom 
they  must  first  educate,  and  who  gives  them  plainly  to 
understand  that  she  has  no  interest  in  her  work,  is 
driven  to  it  by  necessity,  performs  it  grudgingly,  and 
will  abandon  it  at  the  first  opportunity  for  something 
more  congenial. 


re  *  \A/  ereres  ft  ir)  *  J~)zu5  *  V 


T  is  a  common  wish  among  young 
and  inexperienced  women  about  to 
enter  the  arena  of  public  labor  to 
find  situations  in  a  large  city  such 
as  New  York,  Boston  or  Chicago, 
but  they  must  remember  that  while 
there  are  many  situations  in  a  large  town, 
there  are  also  many  competitors,  and  these 
always  out-rate  the  positions  in  the  ratio  of 
fifty  applicants  to  one  appointment.  This 
is  the  case  in  business  situations  for  men,  as 
well,  only  on  a  still  more  discouraging  scale, 
there  being  frequently  a  hundred  applicants 
to  one  vacancy.  With  this  excess  of  demand 
on  the  wrong  side  prices  must  be  low,  but 
there  are  always  exceptions  to  every  rule,  and  there  may 
be  fortunate  circumstances  to  give  the  last  new  comer 
immediate  compensation,  and  if  that  is  not  possible, 
months  of  waiting  may  bear  good  fruit  in  an  added 
experience,  a  knowledge  of  the  city,  and  other  beneficial 
results. 

In  answer  to  enquiries  in  a  New  York  paper,  whether 
there  is  any  position  open  to  a  woman  except  that  of  a 
teacher,  where  she  can  earn  more  than  $800  a  year,  the 

18 


I 
AVERAGE   WAGES.  19 

following  list  of  prices  is  furnished,  with  the  comment 
that  women,  as  a  rule,  received  from  twenty  to  thirty  per 
centum  less  than  men  for  the  same  or  equivalent  ser- 
vices. Just  here  I  would  say  that  no  woman  need  feel 
aggrieved  or  discouraged  by  this  statement,  or  imagine 
that  it  is  an  injury  which  she  must  avenge  by  recourse 
to  the  ballot.  It  is  one  of  the  barriers  which  men  them- 
selves erected  to  defend  women,  from  behind  which  they 
purposed  to  earn  bread  for  both,  unf oreseeing  the  coming 
army  of  women  who  have  no  one  to  work  for  them,  and 
who  must  of  necessity  work  not  only  for  themselves  but 
for  those  dependent  on  them.  But  even  with  this  state- 
ment, a  canvass  of  our  large  stores  and  city  business 
houses  would  show  a  large  percentage  of  men  working 
for  eight  or  ten  persons  against  single  women  clerks  who 
are  working  for  themselves  only.  The  adjustment  of 
false  averages  in  wages,  even  in  these  cases,  may  be  a 
wrong  one,  but  it  is  one  which  time  and  justice  will 
remedy.  The  woman  must  console  herself  as  Whittier 
did,  under  a  national  evil — 

"  I  only  know  that  God  is  just, 
And  every  wrong  shall  die." 

Meanwhile,  whatever  her  hand  finds  to  do,  let  her  do  it 
with  her  might. 

These,  then,  are  the  average  prices  paid  at  the  present 
time  in  large  cities  for  certain  positions.  Good  sales- 
men, for  example,  get  from  $6  to  $10  a  week;  some  few 
who  have  worked  a  long  time  receive  $12,  and  occasion- 
ally a  salary  as  high  as  $15  is  paid.  But  the  latter  are 
exceptional  cases.  Heads  of  departments,  such  as  the 


20  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

leading  saleswomen  in  the  glove  or  lace  departments, 
or  in  the  dressmaking,  who  command  a  large  influ- 
ential custom,  receive  as  high  as  $20  or  $30  a  week,  in 
exceptional  cases,  and  there  are  not  fifty  such  positions 
in  New  York  city  to-day. 

Lady  cashiers  receive,  on  an  average,  a  little  more  than 
good  saleswomen.  But  $15  a  week  is  a  large  stipend 
for  a  cashier,  and  it  requires  a  guaranteed  ability,  the 
best  of  references,  and  sometimes  good  security,  to 
obtain  such  a  position.  The  employment  of  book- 
keeper commands  as  high  as  $20  a  week,  but  the  major- 
ity of  good  bookkeepers  get  from  $10  to  $12,  and  many 
women  well  trained  in  the  business  think  themselves  for- 
tunate if  they  obtain  $8.  In  the  Employment  Bureau  of 
the  Young  Woinen's  Christian  Association,  whose  pro- 
teges obtain,  as/a  rule,  better  positions  and  better  wages 
than  the  subscribers  to  ordinary  employment  agencies, 
$15  per  week  is  stated  as  the  maximum  that  a  woman 
can  hope  for,  exclusive  of  the  professions.  The  Super- 
intendent of  the  Bureau  says  it  is  rare  that  a  woman 
obtains  more  than  $15  per  week  as  a  teacher,  and  that 
$800  per  annum  would  be  regarded  as  a  very  large  sal- 
ary. In  the  position  of  housekeeper  $1,000  a  year  is 
occasionally  paid  to  an  experienced  woman,  trustworthy 
and  capable  of  assuming  the  entire  management  of  a 
first-class  establishment.  Such  instances  are  very  rare, 
and  can  only  be  commanded  by  experienced  women, 
well  trained  theoretically.  On  piece  work,  in  artificial 
manufacture  and  occupations  approximating  to  the 
artistic,  it  is  stated  that  wages  as  high  as  $18  are  occa- 
sionally earned  by  first-class  hands;  but,  in  ordinary 


AVERAGE   WAGES.  21 

industries,  from  $8  to  $12  per  week  represents  the  aver- 
age earnings  of  women  in  occupations  requiring  some 
training,  and  from  $3  to  $6  is  the  common  price  in  the 
lower  industrial  walks. 

WOMEN    AS    HOTEL   CLERKS. 

At  the  Palmer  House,  Chicago,  the  head  clerk,  who  is  a 
woman,  receives  a  salary  of  $1,000  a  year  and  board, 
which  is  equivalent  to  $500  more.  Another  lady  clerk 
has  $900  a  year  and  board,  and  one  bookkeeper  receives 
$600  and  board  per  year.  If  they  prefer  to  board  away 
from  the  hotel  they  receive  an  additional  allowance  of 
$500  a  year.  Mr.  Palmer,  the  proprietor,  announces 
that  the  change  from  men  clerks  is  so  satisfactory  that 
he  will  employ  them  in  the  hotel  as  substitutes  for  male 
help  wherever  it  is  practicable.  There  is  a  popular  hotel 
in  Michigan  where  the  manager,  clerk,  bookkeeper  and 
steward  are  all  women.  For  these  services  they  receive 
the  same  salaries  that  men  do.  It  might  appear  at  first 
thought,  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  a  lady  to  fill  such 
positions,  but  it  is  in  such  places  that  true  ladyhood  is 
needed,  and  the  very  fact  that  the  position  is  difficult 
and  in  public  places,  should  inspire  the  bread  winner  to 
maintain  and  assert,  at  all  hazards,  her  principles  of 
womanly  honor.  It  is  because  of  woman's  moral  supe- 
riority that  she  is  given  the  position,  and  the  surety  her 
employer  has  that  the  interests  of  the  public,  as  well  as 
his  own,  will  be  safe  in  her  hands.  She  will  not 
embezzle  his  money  in  gambling  or  in  late  suppers. 
She  will  not  smoke  his  cigars,  or  bestow  them  on  her 
impecunious  friends;  she  will  not  be  insolent  to  one  per- 


22  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

son  and  cringing  to  another;  and,  if  she  is  a  true  woman, 
the  very  trials  and  stumbling  blocks  of  her  position  will 
only  form  for  her  a  St.  Augustine  ladder,  to  raise  her 
.above  ignoble  things. 

DEPAKTMENTS    OF   BUSINESS   IN  WHICH   WOMEN   ARE 
ENGAGED.     . 

The  Popular  Science  Monthly  gave  some  time  ago  a 
list  of  the  industrial  avocations  for  women,  which 
offers  a  curious  exhibit  of  the  extent  to  which  they 
are  now  invading  the  fields  of  labor  hitherto  occupied 
exclusively  by  men.  There  are  many  branches  not 
included  in  this  list,  to  which  reference  is  made  else- 
where in  the  book. 

Bankers  and  brokers,  15;  clergy,  67;  teachers,  84,047; 
lawyers,  5;  printers,  1,495;  physicians  and  surgeons, 
525;  midwives,  1,136;  dentists,  24;  barbers  and  hair- 
dressers, 1,170;  barkeepers,  70;  whitewashers,  391;  boat 
hands,  30;  canal  boat  hands,  10;  pilots,  1;  undertakers, 
20;  dray  drivers  and  teamsters,  196;  bricklayers,  74; 
carriage  trimmers,  32;  hunters  and  trappers,  2;  hostlers, 
2;  scavengers,  2;  newspaper  carriers,  7;  bell  foundry 
operators,  4;  brass  founders,  102;  brewers,  8;  fishers, 
35;  gas  work  employes,  4;  gun  and  locksmiths,  32; 
shingle  and  lath  makers,  84;  tinners,  17;  architects,  1; 
auctioneers,  12;  clockmakers,  75;  agricultural  laborers, 
373,332;  stock  herders  and  stock  raisers,  75;  cigar- 
makers,  1,844;  curriers  and  tanners,  60;  distillers,  6; 
wood  turners  and  carvers,  44;  engravers,  29. 

It  is  now  almost  impossible  to  find  any  business  in 
which  a  woman  is  not  engaged,  if  not  as  principal,  as 


1 
I 

AVERAGE   WAGES.  23 

assistant ;  in  which  position  she  pays  the  penalty  of  a 
lack  of  business  knowledge  and  experience,  by  receiving 
a  lower  rate  of  remuneration  than  a  man  would  for  doing 
exactly  the  same  work;  but  she  must  patiently  bide  her 
time  and  learn  what  it  is  that  she  can  do  best,  and  not 
be  spasmodic  in  her  work  or  in  her  business  relations. 

FALSE   PEIDE. 

When  a  young  girl  selects  some  money-making  busi- 
ness she  will  naturally  aspire  to  one  of  the  professions, 
such  as  teaching,  because  of  the  desirable  associations 
which  surround  it.  School  influences  are  all  good,  and 
a  teacher  is  fitted  to  appear  in  the  best  society,  as  the 
result  of  association  with  the  cultured  and  refined  edu- 
cators of  youth.  But  all  can  not  be  teachers,  nor  are 
they  adapted  to  the  work  if  they  could  secure  situa- 
tions. What  then?  The  shop,  cashiers,  bookkeepers 
or  clerks  ?  The  training  for  any  of  these  positions  must 
be  such  that  they  can  compete  with  the  male  clerk  who 
began  by  sweeping  out  the  store,  and  not  only  learned 
to  cast  up  accounts  with  accuracy  and  precision,  but  to 
understand  and  take  an  interest  in  the  fundamental  laws 
upon  which  business  is  based.  The  girl  who  was  play- 
ing with  dolls  when  her  fellow-clerk  began  his  appren- 
ticeship expects  to  pick  it  up  in  a  few  months,  and  earn 
as  much  as  he  !  She  will  learn  in  a  few  lessons  that  she 
is  mistaken,  and  if  she  is  wise  will  pocket  her  pride  and 
go  down  to  the  bottom  of  things  as  he  did,  learning  the 
science  as  well  as  the  routine  of  what  she  is  doing.  She 
need  not  abate  a  particle  of  her  dignity  of  character,  or 
grow  hard  and  commonplace  through  the  service  of  life, 


24  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

any  more  than  she  need  ape  the  manners  or  don  the  garb 
of  her  male  co-worker.  It  is  not  necessary  that  she  lose 
that  essential  charm  of  womanhood,  which  is  her  natural 
heritage,  because  she  turns  the  pages  of  a  ledger.  The 
whole  tendency  of  her  being  is  to  grow  in  womanly 
strength,  not  to  develop  into  some  kind  of  a  masculine 
nondescript. 


author  of  the  first  modern  novel 
was  a  woman  —  Miss  Burney  —  and 
concerning  it  Macaulay  said:     "It 
was  a  tale  in  which  both  the  fashion- 
able and  vulgar  side  of  London  might 
be  exhibited  with  great  force  and 
with  broad  comic  humor.     Most  of  the 
novels  which  preceded  Evelina  were  such 
as  no  lady  could  have  written,  and  many 
of  them  were  such  as  no  lady  could,  with- 
out confusion,   own  that  she  had    read. 
The  very  name  of  novel  was  held  in  horror 
among   religious    people.      Miss    Burney 
took  away  the  reproach  which  lay  on  a 
most  useful  and  delightful  species  of  com- 
position.' 

This  was  over  a  century  ago.  Miss  Burney  was  the 
daughter  of  a  London  music  teacher  and  lady  in  waiting 
to  Queen  Charlotte,  consort  of  George  III.,  in  whose  ser- 
vice she  nearly  expended  her  life.  She  had  for  her 
friends  such  men  as  Dr.  Johnson,  Sheridan,  Burke, 
Warren  Hastings,  and  others  of  that  period,  who  were 
shining  lights  in  literature.  Before  Dr.  Johnson  knew 
who  the  author  of  Evelina  was  he  had  publicly  praised 

25 


26  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

the  book,  and  in  her  humility  and  total  lack  of  self -con- 
sciousness she  records  in  her  diary: 

"Dr.  Johnson's  approbation  almost  crazed  me  with 
agreeable  surprise;  it  gave  me  such  a  flow  of  spirits  that 
I  danced  a  jig  to  Daddy  Crisp.  I  think  I  should  love 
Dr.  Johnson  for  such  lenity  to  a  poor,  mere  worm  in  lit- 
erature, even  if  I  were  not  myself  the  identical  grub  he 
has  obliged." 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  delicious  atmosphere  of 
flattery,  Dr.  Johnson  praising  her;  Edmund  Burke 
desiring  to  make  her  acquaintance,  after  sitting  up  all 
night  to  read  her  book;  Sheridan  offering  to  take,  with- 
out first  seeing  it,  any  play  that  she  would  write;  that 
she  lived  and  wrote  another  novel,  Cecilia.  Although 
not  so  simple  in  style,  it  was  a  more  effective  piece  of 
work,  and  was  received  with  great  excitement.  It  is  said 
to  have  brought  the  author  a  remuneration  of  two  thou- 
sand pounds. 

Both  of  these  novels  are  now  unread  and  have  passed 
out  of  fashion,  but  her  letters  and  diary,  as  Madame 
D'Arblay,  are  on  sale  in  new  revised  form,  and  are  val- 
uable as  faithful,  piquant  chroniclers  of  a  past  liter- 
ature, and  a  graphic  reproduction  of  the  minds  and 
manners  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

WOMEN   FAMOUS   IN   LITERATURE. 

A  modern  writer  says:  In  English  literature  there  is 
hardly  a  department  which  woman  does  not  adorn.  In 
history,  biography,  poetry  and  fiction,  she  seems  equally 
at  home,  presenting  a  versatility  and  comprehensiveness, 
a  grasp  of  deep  and  intricate  questions,  a  delicacy  and 


THE    PROFESSION    OF    LITERATURE.  27 

faithfulness  of  treatment,  a  logical  force  and  clearness 
seldom  equaled  or  surpassed  by  the  stronger  sex.  The 
writer  then  alludes  to  that  remarkable  woman  Harriet 
Martineau,  who  popularized  the  principles  of  political 
economy,  defined  the  phenomena  of  mesmerism,  wrote 
histories,  biographies,  manuals  of  statesmanship  and 
treatises  on  the  condition  of  the  laboring  classes,  while 
herself  a  suffering  invalid.  Her  "Life  in  a  Sick  Boom" 
has  cheered  and  strengthened  thousands  of  invalids  by 
teaching  them  occupation  and  diversion  for  the  dreary 
hours  of  solitude  and  suffering  which  no  external  aid 
can  altogether  relieve.  The  story  of  her  "  Farm  of 
Four  Acres"  has  been  read  and  studied  with  profit  by 
hundreds  of  practical  agriculturists,  and  the  history  of 
her  life,  written  by  herself,  and  bearing  in  every  line 
the  impress  of  her  independence  and  originality  is,  not- 
withstanding its  negation  of  that  hope  which  is  the  light 
and  life  of  the  Christian,  one  of  the  most  valuable  and 
instructive  of  studies. 

Marian  Evans,  better  known  as  "George  Eliot,"  has 
made  an  enduring  fame  through  her  novels,  which  are 
justly  considered  the  best  works  of  modern  fiction,  those 
which  she  first  gave  to  the  world  being  considered  supe- 
rior as  domestic  literature  to  the  more  elaborate  and  pow- 
erful works  of  her  mature  years.  The  fireside  favorites  are 
' '  Adam  Bede ' '  and  the  '  'Mill  on  the  Floss. "  The  classic 
romances  of  her  later  years  were  "Roinola"  and 
"  Daniel  Deronda,"  standard  novels,  full  of  a  rich,  ripe, 
intellectual  vigor,  but  demanding  an  equal  breadth  of 
understanding  to  enjoy  them,  consequently  less  popular 
with  the  great  class  of  people  who  do  not  enjoy  abstruse 


28  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

reading.  But  they  are  wonderful  monuments  to  the 
genius  of  the  writer;  albeit  they  have  neither  the  pathos 
of  Dickens  or  the  brilliant  sarcasm  of  Thackeray,  but  are 
worthy  of  comparison  with  either. 

Mrs.  Oliphant,  Mrs.  Gaskell,  and  Mrs.  Henry  Wood,  are 
all  well  known  as  novelists,  and  have  made  handsome  for- 
tunes out  of  their  writings.  Agnes  Strickland  has  given 
us  the  "  Queens  of  England,"  the  most  charmingly  writ- 
ten history  in  existence.  Mrs.  Gaskell  wrote  the  Life  of 
Charlotte  Bronte,  the  gifted  author  of  "Jane  Eyre,"  so 
delightfully  that  the  critics  said  it  ranked  next  in  inter- 
est to  the  novel  whose  writer  it  depicted,  and  it  stands 
unrivaled  as  a  biography,  just  as  Mrs.  Anna  Cora 
Ritchie's  autobiography  surpasses  all  others. 

In  poetry  the  names  of  Felicia  Hemans  and  Elizabeth 
Barret  Browning,  the  author  of  that  rare  poem  for 
women,  "Aurora  Leigh,"  stand  pre-eminent.  Mrs.  He- 
mans  was  the  poet  of  the  affections  and  of  sentiment. 
Mrs.  Browning  wrote  heroic  epics,  and  stands  acknowl- 
edged the  crowned  queen  of  song.  England's  poets  of 
the  gentler  sex  have  led  unhappy  lives  of  repression  and 
non-appreciation,  or  have  been  helpless  invalids,  with  a  few 
notable  exceptions.  As  the  bird  whose  eyes  have  been 
put  out  sings  the  sweetest  song  in  its  blindness  and  cap- 
tivity, so  these  wounded  spirits,  such  as  Mrs.  Hemans, 
L.  E.  L.,  Mrs  Caroline  Norton,  Adelaide  Proctor,  and 
Mrs.  Browning,  have  given  us  the  divinest  strains  of  sor- 
row through  their  suffering  souls.  Take  a  glance  at  any 
collection  of  poets  and  see  the  women's  names  there 
inscribed:  Jean  Ingelow,  Dinah  Maria  Mulock,  Ade- 
laide Proctor,  Mary  Howitt,  Eliza  Cook,  Christina  Ro- 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  LITEEATUKE.  29 

setti,  and  hosts  of  others  as  well  known  and  as  popular. 
Our  own  country  has  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  whose 
"  Uncle  Tom' s  Cabin  "  not  only  made  her  famous  but  inde 
pendently  rich;  Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli,  whose  unhappy 
death  took  her  from  us  in  the  flower  of  her  genius,  and 
who  was  the  first  American  writer  in  the  ranks  of  women 
to  produce  essays  of  clearness  and  vigor,  which  were  in 
the  highest  sense  intellectual  and  educational;  Mrs.  E. 
D.  E.  N.  Southworth,  a  popular  novelist;  Lucy  Larcom, 
whose  graceful  poetry  is  much  admired;  "Gail  Hamilton," 
Miss  Abigail  Dodge,  who  has  written  several  sparkling 
books,  and  a  host  of  women  who  write  books,  write  for 
the  newspapers  and  for  the  periodicals,  and  whose  work 
is  well  paid  for.  There  are  women  whose  names  do  not 
become  widely  known  who  have  made  valuable  contri- 
butions to  the  literature  of  the  day.  The  bookstores  are 
filled  with  new  books,  and  on  the  handsome  covers  the 
names  of  female  writers  are  inscribed.  There  are  indus- 
trious workers  who  produce  a  new  volume  every  year, 
the  labor  pays  them  pecuniarily,  and  the  people  are  the 
critics  who  read  and  accept  what  they  write. 

HOW  TO   GET  A   MANUSCRIPT   PUBLISHED. 

If  there  is  merit  in  the  work  it  will  be  discovered  by 
some  publisher  to  whom  it  may  be  submitted,  and  the 
manuscript  will  be  given  to  a  reader,  and  if  it  is  accepted, 
a  certain  price  will  be  paid  for  it;  or  it  may  be  published 
on  a  royalty  to  the  author,  which  is  usually  ten  per 
cent.  To  ensure  attention  the  writing  should  be  legi- 
ble, written  only  on  one  side  of  the  paper,  the  manu- 
script smooth  and  easily  handled,  and  everything  made 


30  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

as  plain  to  the  reader  as  possible.  Stamps  for  its 
return,  in  case  it  is  not  used,  should  be  enclosed.  No 
rules  can  be  given  to  ensure  success.  If  there  is  merit 
and  originality  in  the  story,  and  it  is  well  told  and 
pleasantly  written,  it  will  take.  "  Cape  Cod  Folks  "  was 
a  first  novel  by  an  anonymous  writer,  and  it  had  a  sud- 
den local  success.  It  was  written  by  a  bright  young  girl 
who  taught  school  a  season  among  a  lot  of  quaint  char- 
acters whom  she  mimicked  in  such  a  brilliant  manner  that 
the  work  had  a  novelty  and  dash  that  made  it  sell.  "  An 
Earnest  Trifler,"  another  popular  society  novel,  was  writ- 
ten by  an  Ohio  girl,  and  has  been  in  demand  for  several 
seasons.  "One  Summer,"  by  Blanche  Howard,  has  been 
a  very  successful  book  for  light  summer  reading.  It  is 
not  likely  that  these  books  will  be  remembered  after  a 
dozen  years.  They  will  hardly  enjoy  the  popularity  of 
"Queechy;"  and  "The  Wide,  Wide  World,"  by  Miss 
Warner.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  writers  made  very  much 
out  of  them — perhaps  what  it  would  have  taken  them 
three  years  to  earn  at  school  teaching.  Books  written 
under  difficulties  are  nearly  always  the  most  successful, 
as  the  friction  of  adverse  circumstances  brings  out  more 
freely  the  sparks  of  genius.  It  will  do  amateur  writers 
good  to  study  the  habits  of  successful  authors,  to  read 
successful  books,  and  analyze  their  contents.  The  home 
life  of  the  Bronte  family  has  always  possessed  a  great 
interest  for  those  who  are  engaged  in  literary  pursuits. 
An  old  family  servant  says  that  the  famous  sisters  had 
very  regular  habits  of  indoor  life.  At  nine  o'clock  pre- 
cisely every  evening  all  domestic  work  was  laid  aside  and 
literary  tasks  were  begun.  They  talked  over  the  stories 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   LITERATURE.  31 

they  were  engaged  upon,  and  described  their  plots. 
Apparently  there  was  some  writing  during  the  day, 
for,  according  to  the  servant:  "Many's  the  time  that 
I  have,  seen  Miss  Emily  put  down  the  tally  iron,  as  she 
was  ironing  the  clothes,  to  scribble  something  on  a  piece 
of  paper.  Whatever  she  was  doing,  ironing  or  baking, 
she  had  her  pencil  and  paper  by  her.  I  know  now  she 
was  writing  '  Wuthering  Heights.' ' 

HOW  THE  AUTHOR  OF     "  WE   GIRLS "    WRITES  HER 
BOOKS. 

Apropos  of  the  home  life  of  writers,  a  few  words  about 
one  of  our  own  fireside  authors  may  not  be  amiss  here. 
There  are  few  persons  who  read  the  lighter  class  of  liter- 
ature who  do  not  admire  the  sweet,  pure,  wholesome  works 
of  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney,  and  who  would  not  be  glad  to 
know  something  about  her  personal  and  private  life. 
She  lives  in  a  quaint,  old-fashioned  brown  house,  with  a 
rotunda  running  across  the  front,  supported  by  pillars, 
over  which  are  trailing  vines.  It  is  hard  to  imagine  a 
more  homelike  place.  Everything  shows  the  work  of 
hands  at  home,  from  the  pretty  parlor  curtains  of  an 
unbleached  muslin,  bordered  with  red  and  black,  to 
the  combination  of  the  shades  of  brown  in  the  furniture 
covering.  In  the  parlor  hang  photographs  which  bring 
to  mind  "  Sights  and  Insights."  Two  or  three  exquisite 
panels  of  pansies,  which  must  have  been  suggested  by 
the  book  of  "  thoughts  that  have  blossomed  into  words;" 
two  fine  outline  engravings  of  Fra  Angelica's  "Angels;" 
Raphael's  "Madonna  of  the  Goldfinch;"  Delanche's 
beautiful  "Moses  in  the  Bulrushes,"  and  some  pretty  little 


32  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

chromos.  Wherever  one  happens  to  be  there  is  a  book 
to  pick  up,  and  it  is  always  sure  to  be  interesting.  Mac- 
donald  is  a  very  great  favorite  with  Mrs.  Whitney.  His 
picture  hangs  in  her  room.  And  Mrs.  Whitney  herself  ? 
She  is  a  quiet,  sweet  little  woman,  dressed  in  black  and 
gray. 

She  has  no  special  place  for  writing  when  hay-lofts 
are  out  of  the  question.  Her  "Odd  and  Even"  was 
mostly  written  in  a  hay-loft  on  summer  days.  She  keeps 
her  few  books  of  reference  in  a  music  rack,  which  she 
rolls  around  where  fancy  leads  her,  writing  generally  on 
a  board  or  book  placed  on  her  lap.  She  copies  all  the 
manuscript  with  a  type-writer. 

One  singular  thing  in  Mrs.  Whitney's  books  is,  that 
those  circumstances  which  seem  most  immaterial  are 
founded  on  fact.  The  black  cat  in  "Zerub  Throop's 
Experiment "  was  taken  from  life.  The  whole  solution  of 
the  plot  in  "Odd  or  Even"  hung  upon  a  sneeze.  In 
writing  she  generally  has  an  idea  from  which  some  life 
lesson  can  be  taken,  which  she  calls  the  core  of  her 
story.  "  It  comes  first,"  she  says,  "  and  I  build  around 
it.  I  sit  as  a  spectator  and  let  my  people  come  upon 
the  stage,  not  knowing  what  they  are  to  be  myself,  but  I 
never  take  a  portrait.  If  I  find  one  coming  unawares  I 
immediately  change  the  features."  If  a  house  or  room 
is  to  be  described,  Mrs.  Whitney  puts  her  idea  first  in 
the  form  of  a  pencil  sketch  and  keeps  the  drawing  with 
her  to  be  sure  of  consistency.  One  of  her  very  best 
books  for  the  home  is  "  We  Girls,"  in  which  so  many 
beautiful,  graceful  features  of  domestic  life  are  drawn, 


MRS.  ROSA  HAKI  WICK  THORPE. 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   LITERATURE.  33 

while  a  simple  story  is  charmingly  told  in  her  wise  and 
gracious  way. 

MRS.  ROSA  HARTWICK  THORPE, 

Author  of  "  Curfew  Must  Not  Ring  To-Night." 

Mrs.  Rosa  Hart  wick  Thorpe  is  the  author  of  one  poem 
which  has  made  a  world-wide  and  enduring  fame  for 
her,  such  as  other  writers  have  spent  a  life-time  in 
vainly  trying  to  acquire.  It  was  written  for  the  Detroit 
Commercial  Advertiser,  and  the  writer  did  not  probably 
receive  any  compensation  for  it.  It  was  copied  in  all 
other  papers  throughout  the  Union,  and  was  reproduced 
in  English  journals,  and  translated  into  the  German  lan- 
guage in  Germany.  Mrs.  Thorpe  was  but  seventeen 
years  old  when  she  wrote  this  famous  poem.  As 
a  child  she  was  a  thinker  and  reader,  and  in  her 
school  days  her  delightful  essays  and  composition 
were  the  admiration  of  teachers  and  classmates.  She 
has  never  made  a  profession  of  writing,  but  has  jotted 
down  her  thoughts  during  her  household  exercises,  or 
in  seasons  of  ill-health,  as  a  sort  of  mental  recreation. 
Mrs.  Thorpe  has  furnished  many  short  poems  to  the 
newspapers,  heroic  or  sentimental  incidents  of  history 
furnishing  her  with  themes.  There  is  no  doubt  she 
might  have  wealth  and  fame  both  with  her  pen  had  she 
made  literature  a  profession. 

Mrs.  Thorpe  is  tall  and  slender.  She  has  dark  brown 
hair,  and  eyes  that  indicate  remarkable  intelligence,  as 
her  picture,  taken  expressly  for  this  work,  indicates. 

3 


f  #  Jauprjctlisnj. 


HIETY   years  ago    a    woman  who 
wrote  for    the    papers    was   looked 
upon  as  a  great  curiosity — a  sort  of 
nondescript  who  occupied  a  purely 
ideal  position,  and  whose  name  was 
veiled  from  the  contaminating  gaze 
of  the  public  under  initial  letters  or  some 
graceful  nom-de-plume  of  the  Lydia  Lan- 
guish school.    The  term  blue  stocking  was 
still  in  vogue  for  any  woman  who  dared 
let  her  proclivity  for  writing  stories  or 
poetry  be  known,  and  the  vulgar  taste 
dictated    such    verses    as    the    following 
specimen  as  a  means  of  ridioule: 

"  To  see  a  lady  of  such  taste 
So  slatternly  is  shocking, 
Your  pen  and  poetry  lay  by 

And  learn  to  darn  your  stockings." 

In  spite  of  these  discouragements  many  daring  women 
did  manage  to  add  a  respectable  sum  to  their  otherwise 
meagre  purses  every  year,  by  writing  poetry,  essays  and 
stories  for  the  papers.  Among  these  was  Emily  C. 
Chubbuck,  who,  under  the  alliterative  name  of  Fanny 
Forrester,  wrote  very  acceptable  poems  and  stories, 

34 


THE   PKOFESSIOX   OF   JOURNALISM.  35 

which  were  the  means  of  introducing  her  to  her  future 
husband,  the  distinguished  missionary  Adoniram  Jud- 
son.  She  is  long  since  dead,  but  her  poems  and  her 
book,  Alderbrook,  etc.,  are  found  still  in  old  libra- 
ries. Miss  Sarah  Clarke  (Grace  Greenwood)  was  also 
of  that  period,  and  is  still  living  abroad.  She  wrote  for 
the  columns  of  various  papers,  and  edited  a  child's  mag- 
azine, the  Little  Pilgrim.  Mrs.  Hale  was  then  the  editor 
of  Glodey's  Lady's  Book,  and  continued  to  be  for  forty 
years.  Mrs.  Sigourney  had  written  sweet  verses,  which 
had  given  her  both  name  and  fame.  The  Boston  Olive 
Branch  had  a  number  of  ladies  employed  in  its  office 
as  editors,  readers,  story-writers,  and  editorial  writers  in 
those  days.  Mrs.  M.  A.  Denison,  author  of  "  That  Hus- 
band of  Mine,"  edited  the  "Ladies  Enterprise,"  a 
paper  issued  under  the  management  of  the  Olive  Branch 
Company.  Fanny  Fern  came  into  that  office  one  day, 
and  handed  Mr.  Norris  a  "little  piece."  He  referred  it 
to  Mrs.  Denison,  who  read  it  and  passed  it  along  to  Mrs. 
Gerry,  who  wrote  something  on  the  margin.  It  was 
this:  "A  very  readable  sketch,  bright  and  sparkling." 
Mr.  Morris  said:  "You  can  leave  it;  if  it  is  used  we 
will  pay  you  at  the  rate  of  $1.50  per  column  of  our 
paper.  Afterwards  Robert  Bonner  paid  her  one  hun- 
dred dollars  a  column.  Every  line  she  wrote  was  a 
satire  on  some  pet  folly,  and  her  articles  became 
immensely  popular.  It  is  recorded  of  her,  that  she 
vv  rote  once  a  week  for  the  Ledger  for  fourteen  years,  and 
in  all  that  time  was  never  once  late  with  her  manuscript 
or  missed  a  paper.  I  mention  these  as  representative 
women.  There  were  many  others  who  wrote  then  and 


36  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

have  won  for  themselves  an  honorable  competence  in 
newspaper  writing,  if  not  as  pnblic  a  fame. 

But  the  style  of  writing  has  changed.  The  pretty  love 
stories  in  which  romantic  names  and  pastoral  scenes  are 
blended  are  no  longer  in  favor.  Even  the  genins  of  Mar- 
garet Fuller  might  not  get  her  a  situation  on  the  public 
press  to-day  as  an  editorial  writer,  for  the  newspapers 
no  longer  publish  literary  essays,  however  learned  and 
well  written;  it  wants  a  quick  and  comprehensive  digest 
of  the  news — a  tender  and  pathetic  sketch  in  which  are 
all  the  elements  of  a  first-class  drama,  a  poem  worthy  of 
Longfellow  or  Bryant,  or  a  description  of  a  dog  fight  or 
local  disturbance,  written  in  rhetorical  English,  and  a 
style  that  will  compare  with  Ruskin. 

THE  LADY  JOURNALIST. 

No  work  is  more  strangely  and  more  cnrionsly  misun- 
derstood than  that  required  by  journalism.  It  not  only 
requires  special  talent  of  a  high  order,  but  the  greatest 
amount  of  technical  discipline,  general  information, 
adaptability,  quickness  of  diction,  and  fertility  of 
resources.  "With  all  this  it  requires,  too,  what  is  almost 
a  sixth  sense,  the  mental  habit  of  keen  analysis  and 
swift  combination.  While  these  qualifications  are  in 
their  perfection,  the  result  of  experience,  they  must  also 
be  natural  gifts.  The  journalist,  even  as  the  poet,  is 
born,  not  made.  The  young  woman  who  aspires  to  do 
"critical  literary  work"  would,  upon  trial,  be  found 
incompetent  to  write  a  local  paragraph  satisfactorily. 
If  she  is  in  earnest  in  her  desire  to  enter  journalism,  she 
must  be  content  to  begin  at  the  beginning.  She  must 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  JOURNALISM.  37 

realize  the  importance  of  that  sympathetic  perception, 
graphic  delineation,  and  power  of  representation  that 
characterize  the  able  reporter.  It  is  a  department  whose 
discipline  is  invaluable,  and  whose  scope  it  may  well  be 
a  young  woman's  aspiration  to  ably  fill;  and  there  is  not 
the  slightest  danger  of  her  work  being  too  good  for  it. 
The  anxiety  should  be  to  have  it  sufficiently  good.  If 
the  aspiring  young  woman  is  ready  to  begin  in  the  sim- 
plest manner,  and  bring  her  best  abilities  to  whatever  she 
is  set  to  do,  she  may  in  time  grow  to  other  work.  That 
depends  wholly  on  innate  ability  and  her  power  of  per- 
severance. 

Again,  the  professional  journalist  is  as  often  amazed 
over  the  attitude  taken  by  the  young  woman  whose  con- 
tributions he  rejects.  Now,  it  is  an  unwritten  law,  well 
understood  in  journalism,  that  no  editor  is  under  the 
slightest  obligation  to  give  a  reason  for  his  acceptance  or 
non-acceptance  of  a  manuscript.  He  is  not  called  upon 
to  write  a  private  critique  on  the  article  to  the  author  of 
it.  His  acceptance  or  rejection  is  an  absolute  and 
unquestionable  fact.  Among  amateur  writers  this  does 
not  appear  to  be  understood.  "The  article  is  hardly 
available  for  the  columns  of  this  paper,"  writes  the  edi- 
tor of  the  journal.  Now,  that  should  be  sufficient,  and 
end  the  matter.  The  article  may  be  better  in  some 
respects  than  a  dozen  others  he  accepts;  but  if  he  is  in 
any  sense  worthy  of  his  place,  he  has  an  innate  intuition 
of  subtle  fitness  and  intellectual  acquirements  which  he 
could  no  more  communicate  than  he  could  put  his  men- 
tal life  on  exhibition.  Moreover,  there  is  not  the  slight- 
est necessity  of  his  convincing  them.  But  his  contribu- 


38  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

tor  can  not  let  the  matter  rest.  Perhaps  she  has  written 
a  book  and  is  not  pleased  with  his  review  of  it.  She 
must  write  him  a  letter  deprecating  his  judgment.  She 
wants  to  know  if  he  has  read  her  book  carefully.  She  tells 
him  the  critical  connoisseur  gave  two  columns  of  extracts 
from  it,  and  she  thinks  it  too  bad  that  he  referred  to  it 
so  unkindly.  She  favors  him  with  nine  pages  of  her 
views  on  his  conduct.  All  sub-editors  and  reporters 
understand  that  it  is  an  unjustifiable  impertinence  to 
ask  the  managing  editor  his  reason  for  publishing  or  not 
publishing  any  matter  submitted  to  his  judgment.  Out- 
side writers  and  aspiring  amateurs  rarely  seem  to  com- 
prehend this  truth,  and  their  transgressions  are  largely 
from  ignorance,  rather  than  intention.  The  nature  of 
editorial  work  requires  absolute  power  of  decision  in 
order  to  preserve  the  unities  of  the  journal  the  editor 
conducts,  and  the  amateur  contributor  should  not  per- 
mit his  amour  propre  to  incite  him  to  open  any  discus- 
sion regarding  the  justice  of  the  editorial  judgment. 

ETHICS    OF  JOURNALISM. 

The  above  statements  are  strictly  true,  but  how  are 
young  writers  to  know  this?  There  is  no  school  in 
which  journalism  is  taught  as  any  other  profession  is, 
and  an  amateur  in  newspaper  work  must  therefore  learn 
the  etiquette  of  the  occasion  from  actual  experience. 
The  editor  of  a  daily  journal,  for  example,  has  no  time 
to  instruct  callers  with  manuscript  they  wish  him  to 
peruse,  in  the  ethics  of  journalism.  He  may  frown  and 
look  bored,  and  consult  his  watch,  as  he  frequently  does 
on  such  an  occasion;  and  if  his  visitor  has  the  intuitions 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   JOURNALISM.  39 

which  the  situation  demands  she  will  leave  her  manu- 
script and  go  away,  without  another  word.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  she  explain  how  she  came  to  write  it, 
what  her  necessities  are,  where  she  was  born,  and  if  she 
is  married  or  single.  The  editor  is  not  personally  inter- 
ested in  her  hibtory,  and  his  time  is  money  to  him. 
Now,  if  she  would  reach  his  notice  in  a  business  way,  let 
her  present  her  manuscript,  ask  him  if  he  will  please 
look  it  over  when  he  has  time,  and  either  leave  her 
address  and  stamps  for  its  return,  or  state  that  she  will 
call  again  at  such  a  time.  Then  she  will  bow  pleasantly 
and  retire.  A  lady  who  has  won  name  and  money  as  a 
newspaper  writer,  took  her  first  effort  to  a  weekly  jour- 
nal in  Boston.  The  editor  was  amusing  himself  with  a 
pet  dog  when  she  entered  the  office,  and  he  merely 
inclined  his  head  toward  a  chair,  and  went  on  feeding 
the  dog  lumps  of  sugar.  The  lady  at  last  became  so 
indignant  at  such  neglect  that  she  rose  to  go.  Then  the 
editor  asked  what  he  could  do  for  her,  and  extended  his 
hand  for  the  roll  of  manuscript  she  carried,  telling  her 
that  if  it  was  used  it  would  be  paid  for  at  the  rate  of  $2 
a  column.  The  columns  were  very  long,  and  the  lady 
left  the  office  feeling  much  discouraged.  The  next  week 
she  bought  the  paper  and  saw  her  sketch.  When  she 
visited  the  office  the  editor  handed  her  $1.50,  and  said 
he  would  like  a  long  story,  complete  in  one  issue.  She 
wrote  it  and  it  measured  nine  columns,  for  which  she 
received  eighteen  dollars,  and  from  that  hour  she  has 
continued  to  earn  money  freely  with  her  pen;  yet,  the 
editor  candidly  told  her  that  if  she  had  not  called  in  per- 
son he  would  not  have  used  her  contributions.  "It  was 


40  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

the  magnetism  of  your  presence,  your  quick,  decided 
manner,  and  the  few  words  you  expressed  your  business 
in,  that  led  ni^  to  examine  the  manuscript  in  which  I 
found  the  merit  suggested." 

There  can  be  no  possible  reason  why  a  woman  who  has 
manuscript  to  sell  should  not  seek  a  market  for  her  liter- 
ary wares  as  she  would  for  needle  work  or  pictures;  but 
she  must  be  competent  to  write  a  poem  or  prose  article, 
just  as  she  must  be  to  sew  well,  or  paint  a  satisfactory 
picture.  And  there  will  be  grades  of  merit,  too,  in  the 
writings  as  in  the  material  products.  She  need  no  more 
expect  that  her  first  articles  will  be  accepted  by  Harper 
or  the  New  York  World,  or  Tribune,  than  that  her  first 
picture  will  find  a  place  in  the  Academy  of  Arts,  unless, 
indeed,  she  has  exceptional  genius  or  inspiration  amount- 
ing to  it.  "  But  how  am  I  to  know  whether  my  articles 
will  be  worth  publishing  unless  I  submit  them  to  the 
editor  of  some  paper?"  That  is  very  true;  but  you  will 
need  wings  before  you  can  soar.  A  brief  and  well  writ- 
ten communication  on  some  topic  of  interest — not  your- 
self or  your  family  affairs — but  a  bright,  attractive  half- 
column  sketch,  written  in  a  bold,  free  hand,  on  one  side 
of  clean,  unwrinkled  paper — something  that  will  strike 
the  eye  and  the  understanding  at  the  same  time,  and 
demand  attention — this  is  what  a  newspaper  wants. 
Use  concise  terms;  have  a  choice  of  words;  be  anything 
but  commonplace.  If  you  attempt  to  describe  a  horse- 
race, put  motion  into  the  article;  make  it  so  pictur- 
esque and  full  of  life  that  your  readers  can  see  the 
flying  animal,  the  crowd  of  spectators,  and  hear  the  loud 
cheers  that  announce  the  winning  heat.  Give  strength 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   JOURNALISM.  41 

and  beauty  to  the  simplest  things  you  describe;  use  a 
lead  pencil  and  eraser,  and  strike  out  any  sentence  that 
is  not  a  picture.  Some  of  the  strongest  journalistic  work 
in  the  world  has  been  done  by  women.  Miss  Middy 
Morgan  is  the  live  stock  reporter  for  a  number  of  New- 
York  daily  papers.  It  is  rather  a  strange  occupation  for 
a  woman  perhaps.  Miss  Morgan  commands  respect, 
and  she  is  an  earnest,  honest  worker,  who  loves  her 
somewhat  bizarre  occupation,  and  brings  to  it  practical 
knowledge  which  few  men  possess.  She  is  of  Irish  birth, 
a  descendant  of  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  Irish  gen- 
try, had  from  childhood  been  devoted  to  out-door  sports, 
and  could  ride  horseback  better  than  any  boy  of  her 
native  country.  She  was  thoroughly  educated,  and  was 
a  sort  of  Lady  Clancarty  in  elegance  and  grace  of  man- 
ner. Domestic  reverses  found  her  in  this  country,  in  New 
York  city,  proud  and  penniless.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
could  not  find  any  field  in  which  to  exercise  her  talent. 
At  last  she  went  to  the  old  white-haired  philosopher, 
Horace  Greeley,  for  advice.  During  their  chat  he 
alluded  to  the  need  of  a  reporter  of  cattle  sales,  and  jok- 
ingly suggested  that  she  try  the  occupation. 

"I  will  doit,"  she  exclaimed,  and  rising  to  her  full 
height,  six  feet  two  inches,  she  looked  a  veritable  young 
Amazon,  as  she  grandly  stalked  from  the  room.  But 
she  is  an  Amazon  in  height  and  intellect  only,  for  other- 
wise she  is  not  at  all  masculine,  and  has  a  dainty  com- 
plexion, despite  her  constant  exposure  to  wind  and  sun. 
Her  eyes  of  bright  Irish  blue — "celestial  blue,"  as  Mr. 

McGowan  describes  them — are  very  expressive.     She  is 

i! 


42  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

a  bright,  intelligent  talker,  full  of  anecdote  and  adven- 
ture. She  believes  that,  if  she  behaves  herself,  a  woman 
can  earn  her  living  wherever  she  develops  most  aptitude. 
In  short,  Miss  Morgan  says:  "It  is  the  woman  who 
makes  the  occupation,"  She  has  purchased  horses  in 
France  for  the  King  of  Italy's  stables,  and  no  one  has 
ever  called  Middy  Morgan  unwomanly,  or  done  any- 
thing but  commend  her  for  her  fearless  pluck  and  her 
excellent  journalism. 

LADY   EEPOETEES. 

A  lady  reporter  has  been  employed  for  years  on  the 
New  York  Daily  Sun.  She  writes  up  everything  that 
comes  in  her  way,  in  the  shape  of  local  news;  is  here, 
there,  and  everywhere  that  an  item  can  be  collected,  and 
gives  it  to  the  public  in  an  easy,  readable  style.  She 
used  to  attend  Mr.  Beecher's  church  on  Sunday,  and 
report  the  sermon,  from  a  little  stand  placed  under  and 
in  front  of  the  pulpit  platform.  There  is  a  large  num- 
ber of  women  in  New  York  who  support  themselves  by 
writing  for  the  newspapers,  daily  or  weekly;  some  are 
local;  some  write  short  sketches;  others  furnish  long 
serial  stories;  many  are  book  reviewers.  There  are  pub- 
lishing houses  which  pay  liberally  for  children's  stories, 
biographies,  and  compilations  from  different  sources, 
which  are  brought  out  in  book  form. 

Household  departments,  fashion  letters,  such  as  Jenny 
June  furnishes  to  a  dozen  papers  simultaneously;  chil- 
dren's column,  market  articles,  art  criticisms,  book 
reviews — these  are  nearly  always  the  work  of  women. 
Mrs.  Addie  S.  Billington  presides  ably  over  the  Home 


THE   PROFESSION   OF  JOURNALISM.  43 

Circle  in  the  Burlington  Hawkey e,  a  prominent  Iowa 
journal;  Mrs.  Sarah  Boynton  Harbert  is  at  the  head  of 
tlie  Woman's  Kingdom,  in  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean; 
Mrs.  H.  E.  Starrett  is  on  the  editorial  staff  of  the  St. 
Louis  Evening  Post;  Miss  Jennie  Starkey  is  puzzle  edi- 
tor of  the  Detroit  Free  Pre-s;  Nellie  Hutchinson  is  a 
special  writer  on  the  New  York  Daily  Tribune.  Indeed, 
the  papers  to  which  women  do  not  contribute,  and  on 
whose  pages  they  are  not  employed,  are  exceptions  to 
the  rule.  And  there  is  always  room  for  more.  People 
with  brains,  talent,  and  capability  for  using  them,  will 
open  all  doors.  She  who  writes  a  poem  will  find  some 
paper  to  publish  and  pay  for  it.  But  it  must  be  a  poem 
in  the  true  sense — not  "lines,"  "verses,"  dull  and 
commonplace — but  a  harmony  of  mind,  thought  and 
execution.  Offering  mental  wares  to  the  public  and  ask- 
ing it  to  buy,  is  much  like  soliciting  patronage  for' a  new 
cook  stove  or  ironing  board.  If  it  is  better  than  any  in 
the  market  it  will  have  an  enormous  sale;  if  as  good,  it 
will  have  its  share,  and  if  inferior  will  not  be  wanted  at 
any  price. 

Just  here  I  recall  the  case  of  a  good  woman  who  was 
an  excellent  housekeeper,  and  set  such  a  good  table  that 
her  house  during  the  summer  months— she  lived  in  the 
country — was  the  resort  of  guests  who  paid  liberally  for 
the  privilege.  But  in  an  unlucky  hour,  a  little  woman 
boarded  there  who  wrote  for  the  papers — was  a  paid  con- 
tributor. The  woman  who  had  hitherto  been  content  to 
toil  in  her  kitchen,  making  premium  bread,  butter,  and 
pickles,  saw  how  well  her  boarder  dressed,  how  easily 
she  appeared  to  earn  her  money,  and  she,  too.  longed  to 


44  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

write.  As  soon  as  she  was  alone  she  neglected  her  house 
duties,  and  wrote  "pieces,"  as  she  called  them,  and  sent 
them  off,  badly  written,  ill-spelled,  to  half  the  editors  in 
the  country.  I  have  seen  one  of  these  scrawls,  and  it 
began  as  follows: 

dear  Mr  editur 

"  I  stop  my  moping  " — she  was  washing  the 
floor  at  the  time  and  meant  mopping — "  to  Inform  yure 
reeders  how  to  keap  yung  Childreen  from  geting  into 
Hot  water."  She  then  tells  them  to  have  the  water 
"torpit;"  she  probably  meant  "tepid,"  and  if  the  child 
falls  in,  it  will  not  be  "scalt."  For  this  very  valuable 
information  she  demanded  the  modest  sum  of  five  dol- 
lars ! 

This  is  why  I  urge  women  to  be  sure  of  their  ability 
before  they  enter  the  flinty  paths  of  journalism,  where 
it  is  a  sin  to  be  ignorant,  and  where  you  are  expected  to 
be  wise,  witty,  sensible,  poetical,  and  versatile  for  very 
moderate  pay.  An  attache  of  a  newspaper  must  be 
ready  to  take  up  the  pen  on  all  occasions,  at  a  moment's 
notice,  to  write  a  column  or  a  paragraph,  for  either  of 
which  a  hint  from  the  managing  editor  must  suffice,  and 
to  be  versatile  enough  to  write  grave  to-day  and  gay 
to-morrow.  Nor  must  such  a  one  ask  the  why  or  where- 
fore of  what  is  to  be  written. 

"  Theirs  not  to  make  reply; 
Theirs  but  to  do — and  die." 

It  is  agreeable,  wide-awake  work,  with  no  more  drudg- 
ery than  there  is  in  other  professions,  and  with  many 
compensations.  I  refer  particularly  now  to  women  as 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  JOURNALISM.  45 

newspaper  reporters  or  members  of  the  local  staff. 
There  are  not  many  women  who  can  do  such  work,  but 
there  are  some  who  have  made  it  successful.  The  New 
York  Sun,  the  Cincinnati  Commercial,  the  Chicago 
Inter- Ocean,  and  other  daily  papers  of  prominence  have 
always  had  a  lady  reporter,  who  is  "assigned"  to  cer- 
tain work,  such  as  attending  meetings  of  a  political  or 
public  nature,  and  giving  reports  of  them;  writing  up 
weddings,  social  gatherings,  openings  and  markets.  An 
Iowa  daily  paper  had  a  lady  base  ball  reporter — Mrs. 
Sallie  Yan  Pelt,  who  was  then  on  the  Dubuque  Times. 
Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  of  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean,  went  on 
that  paper  as  night  reporter,  and  would  go  into  the 
office  at  midnight  with  police  news.  No  one  molested 
her,  and  she  retained  her  position  until  something  more 
desirable  offered  itself.  The  salary  for  such  work  aver- 
ages about  $10  a  week.  It  requires  energy,  courage,  and, 
above  all,  promptness.  The  expected  articles  must  be 
on  hand  at  the  moment.  The  pages  of  a  great  newspa- 
per can  not  be  dependent  on  the  caprices  of  an  employe. 
Harper's  Bazar,  edited  by  Miss  Mary  Booth,  who  receives 
three  thousand  dollars  yearly  for  the  work,  is  always 
desirous  of  receiving  good  short  stories — something 
bright  and  original — and  pays  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
dollars  for  them,  sending  the  money  as  soon  as  the 
story  is  read  and  accepted,  but  publishing  it  at  the 
convenience  of  the  editor.  There  are  a  number  of 
papers  in  New  York  that  pay  small  sums,  ranging 
from  fifty  cents  up  to  five  dollars  for  short,  pleasant, 
readable  sketches,  topics  of  the  time  written  up  attrac- 
tively, and  short  love  stories.  Style  must  be  cultivated 


46  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

in  all  writing.  At  the  present  time  a  terse,  practical, 
brilliant  style  is  in  favor.  No  one  writes  now  in  the 
sentimental  manner  of  the  author  of  the  "  Children  of  the 
Abbey;"  nor  is  Lord  Macauley  a  criterion  even  for  the 
editorial  writer.  New  words  are  in  use,  sentences  are 
short  and  crisp,  writing  is  a  more  ephemeral  thing,  and 
is  expected  to  have  the  glow  and  sparkle  of  champagne 
while  it  lasts.  The  world  moves  rapidly,  and  no  one 
wants  to  stop  to  read  dull  platitudes;  nor  will  your  suc- 
cess be  ensured  with  the  publication  of  one  article.  You 
will  need  to  go  on  pruning,  cultivating,  and  acquiring 
all  the  time,  in  order  to  keep  up  the  ever-increasing 
demand  for  new  things. 

AN    OPEN    LETTER. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  how  to  begin  newspaper  correspond- 
ence," modestly  demands  an  aspiring  young  woman.  "I  live 
in  a  small  town  where  there  is  nothing  but  sewing  for  women 
to  do — for  pay.  I  believe  I  would  make  a  good  newspaper  cor- 
respondent. My  stories,  the  few  I  have  sent  to  magazines  and 
papers,  are  generally  accepted  and  paid  for.  I  want  to  go  to 
Florida,  but  can  not  afford  to,  unless  I  can  get  an  engagement 
as  correspondent." 

Now,  the  person  who  regards  newspaper  correspond- 
ence as  a  trade  by  means  of  which  she  may  be  able  to 
"go  to  Florida,"  or  anywhere  else,  has  not  the  faintest 
element  of  capacity  for  it.  It  requires  a  certain  creative 
type  of  talent  to  be  an  acceptable  newspaper  writer, 
whether  in  correspondence  or  any  other  line,  and  the 
woman  who  wants  to  turn  from  sewing,  because  it 
doesn't  pay,  to  writing,  because  it  does  pay,  shows 


THE   PROFESSION    OF   JOURNALISM.  47 

herself  utterly  unappreciative  of  the  work.  Newspa- 
per correspondence  is  not  a  trade,  a  mechanism,  an 
industrial  pursuit  to  be  chosen  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  a  remunerative  vocation.  Like  all  forms  of  lit- 
erary work,  it  chooses  its  votaries,  to  a  large  degree, 
rather  than  waits  to  be  chosen  by  them.  If  a  woman  is 
born  with  a  talent  to  write  she  will  write — there  is  no 
possible  doubt  about  that.  That  she  "lives  in  a  small 
town"  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  size  of  one's 
native  village  does  not  necessarily  determine  the  size  of 
one's  intellectual  capacity.  The  person  who  feels  a  con- 
viction of  a  certain  destiny  does  not  require  to  have  that 
conviction  propped  up  by  admiring  and  miscellaneous 
encouragement.  If  a  woman  "  believes  she  would  make 
a  good  newspaper  correspondent,"  let  her  proceed  to 
business  forthwith.  What's  to  hinder?  There  isn't  a 
newspaper  in  the  country  that  wouldn't  welcome  the 
fresh  writer  who  had  anything  to  say.  If  she  has  any 
ideas,  there  is  every  possible  opportunity  for  expressing 
them.  And  if  she  has  anything  to  express,  she  will 
quietly  do  so,  and  not  inundate  strangers  with  a  nine- 
page  letter,  written  on  both  sides  of  the  thinnest  pos- 
sible paper,  soliciting  their  approval  or  admiration. 
Worth  is  proved  alone  by  work.  What  can  one  do  ? 
Probably  she  does  not  know  herself  till  she  tries,  and 
how  can  she  expect  an  entire  stranger  to  cast  her  horo- 
scope? The  successful  people  are  those  who,  if  they 
feel  a  conviction  of  a  certain  line  of  talent,  follow  that 
line  and  make  of  it  an  art;  not  a  trade,  a  religion;  not  an 
industrial  pursuit.  The  girl  who  begins  newspaper  cor- 
respondence because  she  loves  it,  because  it  is  to  her  a 


48  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

joy,  an  expression,  an  intellectual  necessity,  will  very 
likely  in  time  work  it  up  to  a  remunerative  pursuit. 
But  it  will  undoubtedly  require  some  time.  The  one 
who  seizes  it  to  relieve  the  emptiness  of  her  pocket 
instead  of  the  fullness  of  her  mind,  had  far  better  save 
her  postage  stamps.  If  this  should  appear  unsympa- 
thetic, the  reason  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  miscellaneous 
desire  to  earn  money  is  not  an  affair  that  enlists  pro- 
found sympathy.  Newspaper  correspondence,  rightly 
viewed,  is  an  art.  The  special  correspondent  of  a  jour- 
nal has  an  influence  and  a  place  second  only  to  that  of 
the  editorial  page.  If  she  does  not  hold  her  work  above 
the  level  of  mere  local  chronicle,  of  the  exclusive  narra- 
tion of  transient  and  trifling  events;  if  she  does  not  bring 
to  bear  on  it,  her  best  work,  and  refresh  her  resources 
from  the  finest  thought  and  widest  suggestion  of  the 
day,  then  is  she  unfit  for  the  responsibility  that  is 
entrusted  to  her.  Newspaper  correspondence  should 
be  a  work  of  significance,  and  the  woman  who  regards 
it  as  an  easy  way  of  earning  money  has  of  its  scope  too 
little  comprehension  to  invite  further  discussion. 

A  WOMAN'S  SUCCESS  AS  MANAGER  OF  A  NEWSPAPER. 

A  prominent  German  newspaper,  published  in  New 
York  city,  called  Der  Staats  Zeitung,  has  made  an 
almost  phenomenal  success  in  the  hands  of  a  woman. 
Some  years  ago  its  present  owner  was  left  a  widow  with 
several  small  children  and  a  little  newspaper,  which  she 
tried  to  dispose  of  without  avail.  Prevailing  on  the 
man  employed  as  its  editor  to  remain  and  fulfill  his 
duties,  she  herself  attended  to  the  business,  and  in  a  few 


THE  PROFESSION    OF  JOURNALISM.  49 

months  there  was  a  marked  improvement,  the  editor 
doing  his  share  in  making  its  columns  of  value  to  the 
public,  and  finally  the  widow  decided  to  keep  the  paper 
and  married  the  editor.  She  purchased  the  paper  on 
ich  the  publication  was  printed,  employed  the  work- 
people, managed  the  funds,  and,  at  the  same  time,  edu- 
cated her  boys  and  girls.  After  a  time  she  grew  rich, 
and  instead  of  walking  to  the  office,  drove  there  daily  in 
a  handsome  carriage.  The  office  itself  was  now  a  fine 
modern  establishment.  From  10  to  3  o'clock  the  pro- 
prietor attended  to  business,  after  which  she  returned  to 
her  elegant  home,  the  fruit  of  her  own  labor.  She  has 
lately  built  one  of  the  finest  blocks  in  New  York  city, 
and  has  donated  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  the  Old  Ladies* 
(German)  Home.  During  these  years  of  toil  and  public 
life,  she  has  commanded  the  respect  of  all  who  knew 
her,  and  has  never  ceased  to  be  a  lady  of  high  breeding 
and  sweet  womanly  sympathies.  Der  Staats  Zeitung  is 
the  leading  German  newspaper,  and  Der  Zeitung  build- 
ing is  a  most  beautiful  monument  of  woman's  capacity 
to  do  the  very  best  bread-winning  work  in  the  world, 
provided  she  gives  her  mind,  heart,  and  enthusiasm  to 
its  accomplishment. 

THE  FIRST   NEWSPAPER   CONDUCTED   BY   WOMEN. 

The  first  paper  in  the  country  of  which  any  record  is 
made  of  ownership  or  personal  connection  on  the  part  of 
women,  was  the  paper  printed  in  Rhode  Island,  at  New- 
port, in  1842.  It  was  printed  by  James  Franklin,  brother 
of  Dr.  Benjamin  Franklin,  and  at  his  death  by  his  two 
daughters  and  a  servant  girl.  The  daughters,  it  is  said, 

4 


50  WHAT   CAN   A    WOMAN   DO. 

did  the  type  setting;  the  servant  girl  worked  the  press. 
Their  business  was  printing  and  publishing;  not  writing 
or  editing. 

THE  FIRST   MAGAZINE   EDITED    BY   WOMEN. 

The  first  magazine  in  this  country  which  was  managed 
and  edited  solely  by  women  was  the  Lowell  Offering.  It 
originated  in  an  "Improvement  Circle,"  in  one  of  the 
churches  in  Lowell,  Mass.  Operators  in  the  Lowell  mills 
were  its  first  editors,  from  1842  to  1849.  Its  first  motto 
was: 

"The  worm  on  the  earth 
May  look  up  to  the  star. " 

The  articles  were  all  written  by  factory  girls,  and 
printed  as  written.  Miss  Lucy  Larcom  was  then  an 
operative,  and  one  of  the  magazine's  frequent  contribu- 
tors. This  was  when  American  girls  of  good  parentage 
were  employed  in  the  Lowell  mills,  and  the  factory  com- 
munity was  inspired  with  the  ideas  of  self-culture  and  a 
better  education.  But  when  foreign  born  operatives 
came  in,  the  whole  tone  of  factory  society  was  changed, 
and  the  Offering  had  to  be  abandoned,  but  it  was  a 
marked  power  for  good  while  it  lasted. 

PIONEER  WOMEN   IN   JOURNALISM. 

The  first  daily  newspaper  printed  in  the  world  was 
established  and  edited  by  a  woman— Elizabeth  Mallet, 
in  London,  1702 — almost  two  hundred  years  ago.  In 
her  salutatory  she  said  she  had  established  a  newspaper 
"to  spare  the  public  half  the  impertinences  which  the 
ordinary  papers  contain."  Woman-like,  her  paper  was 
reformatory. 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   JOURNALISM.  51 

The  first  newspaper  published  in  America,  of  which 
we  have  any  record,  was  in  Massachusetts.  It  was 
called  the  Massachusetts  Gazette  and  News-Letter. 
After  the  death  of  the  editor,  the  widow  edited  it  in  the 
most  spirited  manner  for  two  or  three  years.  It  was  the 
only  paper  that  did  not  suspend  publication  when  Boston 
was  besieged  by  the  British.  The  widow's  name  was 
Margaret  Craper. 

In  1732  Rhode  Island  issued  its  first  newspaper.  It 
was  owned  and  edited  by  Anna  Franklin.  She  and  her 
two  daughters  did  the  printing,  and  their  servants 
worked  the  printing  press.  History  tells  us  that  for 
her  quickness  and  correctness  she  was  appointed  printer 
to  the  colony,  supplying  pamphlets,  etc.,  to  the  colonial 
officers.  She  also  printed  an  edition  of  the  Colonial 
Laws  of  340  pages. 

In  1776  Sarah  Goddard  printed  a  paper  in  Newport, 
R.  I.,  ably  conducting  it,  afterward  associating  with  her 
John  Carter.  The  firm  was  announced  Sarah  Goddard 
&  Co.,  taking  the  partnership  precedence,  as  was  proper 
and  right. 

In  1772  Clementine  Reid  published  a  paper  in  Vir- 
ginia, favoring  the  colonial  cause,  and  greatly  offending 
the  royalists;  and  two  years  after  another  paper  was 
started  in  the  interests  of  the  Crown,  by  Mrs.  H.  Boyle, 
borrowing  the  name  of  Mrs.  Reid's  paper,  which  was  the 
Virginia  Gazette,  but  which  was  short  lived.  Both  of 
these  papers  were  published  in  the  town  of  Williamsburg. 
The  colonial  paper  was  the  first  newspaper  in  which  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  was  printed. 

In  1773  Elizabeth  Timothy  published  and  edited  a 


U.  OF  ILL  Lib. 


52  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

paper  in  Charleston,  S.  C.  After  the  Revolution  Anna 
Timothy  became  its  editor,  and  was  appointed  State 
Printer,  which  position  she  held  seventeen  years.  Mary 
Crouch  published  a  paper  in  Charleston  about  the  same 
time,  in  special  opposition  to  the  stamp  act.  She  after- 
wards removed  her  paper  to  Salem,  Mass.,  and  con- 
tinued its  publication  there  for  years. 

LUCY    LAECOM. 

Lucy  Larcom  has  written  a  great  many  tender  and 
touching  poems,  for  all  of  which  she  has  been  well  paid. 
She  has  been  for  years  a  regular  contributor  to  the 
Atlantic  Monthly  Magazine,  and  in  a  late  number  she 
gives  a  sketch  of  the  factory  girls  of  the  Lowell  Mills, 
and  of  the  social  life  which  existed  there  when  she  was 
one  of  the  operatives  and  a  writer  for  the  Lowell  Offer- 
ing, which  was  published  during  the  years  inclusive  of 
1842  to  1849.  Miss  Larcom  says: 

"The  home  life  of  the  mill  girls,  as  I  remember  it  in 
my  mother's  family,  was  nearly  like  this:  Work  began 
at  5  o'clock  on  summer  mornings,  and  at  daylight  in  the 
winter;  breakfast  was  eaten  by  lamp-light  during  the 
cold  weather;  in  summer  an  interval  of  half  an  hour  was 
allowed  for  it  between  7  and  8  o'clock.  The  time  given 
for  the  noon  meal  was  from  a  half  to  three-quarters  of 
an  hour.  The  only  hours  of  leisure  were  from  half -past 
7  or  8  to  10  in  the  evenings,  the  mills  closing  a  little  ear- 
lier on  Saturdays.  It  was  an  imperative  regulation  that 
lights  should  be  out  at  10.  During  that  two  evening 
hours  when  it  was  too  cold  for  the  girls  to  sit  in  their 
own  rooms,  the  dining-room  was  used  as  a  sitting  room, 


THE  PROFESSION  OF  JOURNALISM.  53 

where  they  gathered  around  the  tables  and  sewed  or 
read,  wrote  and  studied.  It  seems  a  wonder  to  look 
back  upon  it  and  see  how  they  accomplished  so  much  as 
they  did  in  their  limited  allowance  of  time.  They  made 
and  mended  their  own  clothing,  often  doing  a  good  deal  ; 

of  unnecessary  fancy  work  besides;  they  subscribed  for 
periodicals,  took  books  from  the  libraries,  went  to  sing- 
ing school,  conference  meetings,  concerts  and  lectures, 
watched  at  night  beside  a  sick  girl's  bedside,  and  did 
double  work  for  her  in  the  mill  if  necessary;  and  on 
Sundays  they  were  at  church,  not  differing  in  appear- 
ance from  other  well-dressed  and  decorous  young  women. 
Strangers  who  had  been  sitting  beside  them  in  a  house  of 
worship  were  often  heard  to  ask,  on  coming  out:  '  But 
where  were  the  factory  girls  ¥  ' 

Lucy  Larcom  was  a  factory  girl  when  she  wrote  the 
beautiful  pathetic  poem  which  first  brought  her  to  the 
notice  of  the  public,  and  which  we  publish  elsewhere.  It 
is  a  labor  song,  one  of  the  plain,  homely  occupations 
which  are  now  controlled  principally  by  machinery 
which  neither  suffers  nor  thinks 


je  *  ]f;:r>0|essi®r) *  erf*  LSa^w'. 


It  often  falls  in  course  of  common  life, 
That  right  long  time  is  overborne  of  wrong, 

Through  avarice,  or  power,  or  guile,  or  strife 
That  weakens  her  and  makes  her  party  strong, 

But  justice,  though  her  doom  she  do  prolong. 

Yet  at  the  last  she  will  her  own  cause  right. 


HERE  are  some  thirty  practicing 
women  lawyers  in  the  United  States, 
although  Miss  Ellen  A.  Martin,  of 
Chicago,  who  has  compiled  a  list  of 
them,  gives  but  twenty-six.  Miss 
Martin  is  herself  established  in  the 
law,  in  connection  with  Miss  Perry,  both 
ladies  being  graduates  of  the  Michigan 
University,  where  more  lady  lawyers  have 
graduated  than  anywhere  else.  There  are 
two  lady  lawers  in  Tiffin,  O.,  but  none  in 
Cincinnati.  Half  a  dozen  ladies  have  been 
admitted  to  practice  in  the  United  States 
Circuit  Court,  and  among  these  Mrs.  Belva 
Lockwood  stands  the  highest  for  real  legal 
acumen  and  ability.  The  newspapers  thus  describe  Mrs. 
Lockwood' s  appearance  and  characteristics  when  she 
was  admitted  to  the  bar:  "Supported  on  either  side  by 

54 


MRS.  IKLVA  LOCKvYOOD. 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   LAW.  55 

Judge  Shellabarger  and  Hon.  Jeremiah  Wilson,  and 
accompanied  by  friends  and  admirers  outside  of  the 
legal  profession,  sat  Mrs.  Belva  A.  Lockwood  within 
the  sacred  precincts  of  the  bar  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States,  from  high  noon  Monday  until  after  4 
o'clock,  waiting,  not  for  a  verdict,  but  for  an  opportunity 
to  present  herself,  under  the  new  law  for  admission  to 
the  bar.  She  was  dressed  neatly  in  a  plain  black  velvet 
dress,  with  satin  vest  and  cloth  coat,  cut  a  Fhomme,  and 
with  gold  buttons,  a  neat  white  ruffle  round  the  neck  and 
cuffs,  black  kid  gloves,  a  tiny  bouquet  on  the  right  lapel 
of  the  coat,  the  well-known  gold  thimble,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  a  miniature  pair  of  scissors  in  gold,  suspended  at 
the  throat,  completed  the  costume;  the  head  was  uncov- 
ered, the  hair  being  rolled  back  from  the  face  and  fast- 
ened in  a  knot  by  a  comb  at  the  back."  Mrs.  Lockwood 
was  duly  admitted,  and  has  won  a  large  and  successful 
practice. 

Miss  Kate  Kane  has  the  honor  of  being  the  first  lady 
lawyer  to  whom  permission  has  been  granted  to  practice 
in  a  Milwaukee  court.  The  lady  studied  at  the  Ann 
Arbor  University  of  Michigan,  and  completed  her  legal 
education  at  a  law  office  at  Janesville,  Wis.  It  is  said  of 
her  that  she  is  a  bright,  spirited,  and  fine  looking  woman 
of  unimpeachable  moral  character  and  indomitable  will. 
Her  reception  in  court  almost  partook  of  an  ovation, 
being  invited  inside  of  the  bar  and  introduced  to  the 
judge,  sheriff,  clerk,  and  principal  lawyers,  by  all  of 
whom  she  was  warmly  welcomed. 

Judge  Albion  W.  Tourgee,  the  accomplished  jurist 
and  author,  bestowed  a  legal  diploma  at  Raleigh,  North 


56  WHAT   C.xN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Carolina,  upon  the  first  lady  lawyer  of  that  State,  mak- 
ing, as  he  did  so,  a  grand  and  thrilling  speech  in  recog- 
nition of  the  divine  right  of  woman  to  succeed  in  any 
work  she  fitted  herself  for. 

Mrs.  Myra  Bradwell,  of  Illinois,  the  editor  of  the  Chi- 
cago Legal  News,  demonstrates  what  a  quick-witted, 
energetic  woman  can  accomplish  in  business.  Not  only 
does  she  edit  and  publish  one  of  the  most  valuable  and 
successful  periodicals  devoted  to  the  interests  of  the 
legal  fraternity,  but  as  soon  as  the  Illinois  Legislature 
adjourns,  she  goes  to  Springfield  personally,  makes  a 
careful  copy  of  all  the  enactments  of  the  session,  and 
publishes  them  in  a  well-bound  volume.  Although  a 
pioneer  in  legal  work,  Mrs.  Bradwell  has  never  been 
admitted  to  the  bar,  a  State  law  preventing  the  admis- 
sion of  a  married  woman. 

Any  of  the  ladies  whose  names  are  here  mentioned 
would,  no  doubt,  answer  the  questions  of  others  of 
their  sex  anxious  to  learn  the  preparatory  steps  of  a 
legal  education,  if  corresponded  with  on  the  subject; 
but  let  the  questions  be  briefly  and  lucidly  stated,  and 
at  least  two  three-cent  postage  stamps  enclosed  for  an 
answer,  thus  covering  the  expense  of  paper  and  postage, 
the  more  valuable  time  being  a  free  contribution.  As 
time  is  money  with  professional  women  as  well  as  men, 
make  your  communication  so  short  that  a  few  strokes  of 
the  pen  will  answer  it.  For  the  better  guidance  of  young 
ladies  not  accustomed  to  business  letters,  a  brief  form  is 
appended: 


M_ 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   LAW.  57 

WEST  BRANCH,  Perm. 


DEAR  MADAM  : 

Will  you  kindly  inform  me  what  steps 

to  take  preparatory  to  a  course  of  instruction  in  the  law;  what 
books  to  buy;  what  college  is  the  best  and  cheapest  for  a  woman 
student  ?  Hoping  this  will  not  demand  too  much  of  your  valu- 
able time,  I  remain, 

Gratefully  yours, 

SUSAN  SHARPE. 

The  next  thing  is  to  have  town  or  postoffice  address, 
county  and  State,  plainly  recorded.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  give  any  other  reason,  than  the  one  implied  for  asking 
the  advice  of  the  person  written  to,  as  it  is  evident  you  had 
heard  of  her  standing,  and  the  letter  suggests  a  compli- 
ment to  her  position  and  authority.  You  will  not  write 
again  after  receiving  the  answer,  except  a  brief  line  of 
thanks,  unless  the  lady  herself  specifies  her  willingness 
to  be  of  service  to  you.  There  should  be  a  natural  Free- 
masonry among  women  as  among  men,  to  assist  each 
other  by  voluntary  contributions  of  help;  but  some- 
times success  hardens  the  finer  feelings,  and  the  woman 
who  has  reached  an  eminence,  is  only  too  willing  to  for- 
get the  helping  hand  that  was  extended  to  her ;  still, 
there  are  plenty  who  will  give  generously  of  their  pros- 
perity, by  helping  others  to  the  isolated  plateaus  of 
success. 

The  Michigan  University  at  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  and 
the  Boston  University  Law  School,  are  popular  institu- 
tions for  ladies  to  study  law  in.  ' 


58  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

A   LAW   FOE  THE    MAEEIED   WOMAN — INDIANA   LEGIS- 
LATION. 

Previous  to  the  enactment  of  the  following  statutes,  a 
married  woman  of  Indiana,  doing  business  in  her  own 
name,  with  the  consent  and  co-operation  of  the  husband, 
could  not  collect  a  single  bill  of  money  owed  her,  by 
law.  Section  4  seems  to  need  a  little  elucidation,  but 
time  will  probably  make  that  as  just  as  the  rest: 

SECTION  1.  Be  it  enacted  by  the  general  assembly  of  the 
State  of  Indiana,  a  married  woman  may  bargain,  sell,  assign, 
and  transfer  her  separate  personal  property  the  same  as  if  she 
were  sole. 

SBC.  2.  A  married  woman  may  carry  on  any  trade  or  busi- 
ness, and  perform  any  labor  or  service  on  her  sole  and  separate 
account.  The  earnings  and  profits  of  any  married  woman, 
accruing  from  her  trade,  business,  service  of  labor,  other  than 
labor  for  her  husband  or  family,  shall  be  her  sole  and  separate 
property. 

SEC.  3.  A  married  woman  may  enter  into  any  contract  in 
reference  to  her  separate  personal  estate,  trade,  business,  labor, 
or  service,  and  the  management  and  improvement  of  her  separ- 
ate real  property,  the  same  as  if  she  were  sole,  and  her  separate 
estate,  real  and  personal,  shall  be  liable  therefor  on  execution  or 
other  judicial  process. 

SEC.  4.  No  conveyance  or  contract  made  by  a  married 
woman,  for  the  sale  of  her  land  or  any  interest  therein,  other 
than  leases  for  a  term  not  exceeding  three  years,  and  mortgages 
on  lands,  to  secure  the  purchase  money  of  such  lands,  shall  be 
valid,  unless  her  husband  shall  join  therein. 

SEC.  5.  A  married  woman  shall  be  bound  by  the  covenants 
of  title  in  deed  of  conveyance  of  her  real  property. 


THE  PEOFESSION   OF  LAW.  59 

SEC.  6.  A  married  woman  may  bring  and  maintain  an  action 
in  her  own  name  against  any  person  or  body  corporate  for  dam- 
ages for  any  injury  to  her  person  or  character,  the  same  as  if  she 
were  sole;  and  the  money  recovered  shall  be  her  separate  prop- 
erty, and  her  husband,  in  such  cases,  shall  not  be  liable  for 
costs. 

SEC.  7.  Whenever  the  husband  causes  repairs  or  improve- 
ments to  be  made  on  the  real  property  of  the  wife,  with  her 
knowledge  and  consent  thereto  in  writing  delivered  to  the  con- 
tractor or  person  performing  labor  or  furnishing  material,  she 
alone  shall  be  liable  for  materials  furnished  or  labor  done. 

SEC.  8.  A  husband  shall  not  be  liable  for  any  debts  con- 
tracted by  the  wife  in  carrying  on  any  trade,  labor  or  business 
on  her  sole  and  separate  account,  nor  for  improvements  made 
by  her  authority  on  her  separate  real  property. 

SEC.  9.  Whenever  a  judgment  is  recovered  against  a  mar- 
ried woman,  her  separate  property  may  be  sold  on  execution  to 
satisfy  the  same,  as  in  other  cases.  Provided,  however,  that 
her  wearing  apparel  and  articles  of  personal  adornment  pur- 
chased by  her,  not  exceeding  $200  in  value,  and  all  such  jew- 
elry, ornaments,  books,  works  of  art  and  vertu,  and  other  effects 
for  personal  or  household  use  as  may  have  been  given  to  her  as 
presents,  gifts,  and  keepsakes,  shall  not  be  subject  to  execution; 
and,  provided  further,  that  she  shall  hold  as  exempt,  except  for 
the  purchase  money  therefor,  other  property  to  the  amount  of 
$300,  to  be  set  apart  aud  appraised  in  the  manner  provided  by 
law  for  exemption  of  property. 

SEC.  10.  A  married  woman  shall  not  mortgage  or  in  any 
manner  encumber  her  separate  property  acquired  by  descent, 
devise,  or  gift,  as  a  security  for  the  debt  or  liability  of  her  hus- 
band or  any  other  person. 


60  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN    DO. 

HOW   THE  LAW   PROTECTS   WOMEN   IN   MICHIGAN. 

An  examination  into  the  laws  of  the  State  of  Michigan 
will  show  that  woman  has  more  privileges  than  man,  and 
that  there  at  least  the  latter  may  be  safely  trusted  to 
legislate  for  his  mother,  sister,  wife,  and  daughter.  The 
State  gives  each  sex  equal  educational  advantages.  A 
woman  can  obtain  not  only  as  broad  a  literary  and  scien- 
tific training  at  the  University  as  man,  but  she  can  also 
obtain  a  special  education  in  the  several  professional 
departments.  She  is  not  precluded  from  obtaining  a 
livelihood  in  any  of  the  avenues  of  industry.  Men  can 
be  imprisoned  in  all  personal  actions  for  damages,  except 
those  arising  from  open  contract,  and  even  in  these 
where  there  has  been  fraud  or  breach  of  trust,  or  where 
moneys  have  been  collected  in  any  professional  employ- 
ment. Women  can  not  be  imprisoned  in  any  civil  action. 
Women  are  allowed  an  attorney  fee  where  judgment  not 
exceeding  twenty-five  dollars  for  personal  services  are 
obtained  before  a  justice  of  the  peace.  A  woman's 
honor  is  protected  by  the  most  stringent  provisions.  A 
wife  has  a  life  interest  in  all  the  real  estate  which  her 
husband  has  owned  during  her  marriage.  He  can  not 
deed  or  will  this  away  from  her;  he  can  not  sell  or  mort- 
gage his  homestead  without  her  consent;  but  she  can  do 
both,  or  either,  without  his  consent.  After  he  dies  she 
is  entitled  to  the  rents  and  profits  of  his  homestead,  if 
there  are  no  children,  during  her  widowhood,  unless  she 
is  the  owner  of  a  homestead  in  her  own  right.  A  wife 
who  signs  a  note  for  money  loaned' her  husband,  can  not 
be  compelled  to  pay  it,  but  a  husband  who  gives  a  note 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   LAW.  61 

for  money  loaned  his  wife,  is  not  correspondingly  privi- 
leged. 

A  woman  can  obtain  a  divorce  from  her  husband  who 
is  able  to  support  her  but  does  not,  and  the  husband  is 
compelled  to  pay  his  wife's  counsel  fees  and  other  legal 
expenses  in  contesting  the  suit;  in  short,  a  wife  has  full, 
complete  and  absolute  control  over  all  her  own  property, 
real  and  personal,  whether  acquired  before  or  after  her 
marriage,  and  she  may  contract,  sell,  transfer,  mortgage, 
convey,  devise  and  bequeath  the  same  without  any  con- 
trol on  the  part  of  her  husband.  There  are  several  other 
particulars  which  could  be  specified  wherein  the  law  of 
the  state  discriminates  in  favor  of  women,  but  enough 
has  been  mentioned  to  show  that  men  can  make  as  good 
laws  for  women  as  women  would  make  for  themselves. 

MRS.  JUDITH   ELLEN   FOSTER,  LADY   LAWYER. 

Miss  Frances  E.  Willard  writes  an  interesting  sketch 
of  this  lady,  from  which  the  following  is  condensed. 
Mrs.  Foster  is  the  wife  of  Hon.  E.  C.  Foster,  lawyer  and 
politician  of  Clinton,  Iowa,  and  her  biographer  says: 

"  She  read  law  first  for  his  entertainment,  and  afterwards  by 
his  suggestion  and  under  his  supervision.  She  pursued  a  sys- 
tematic course  of  legal  study,  with,  however,  no  thought  of 
admission  to  the  bar.  She  read  with  her  babies  about  her  such 
learned  tomes  as  Blackstone  and  Kent,  Bishop  and  Strong, 
instead  of  amusing  herself  with  fashion  plates  or  fiction.  She 
never  had  an  ambition  for  public  speaking  or  public  life. 
Although  reared  in  the  Methodist  church,  she  had  never,  until 
the  time  of  the  temperance  crusade,  heard  a  woman  preach  or 
lecture;  but  when  that  trumpet  blast  resounded,  she,  in  common 


WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

with  her  sisters,  responded  to  the  call,  and  lifted  up  her  voice 
in  protest  against  the  iniquity  of  the  drink  traffic.  Her  accept- 
ance with  the  people  just  at  the  time  when  she  had  completed 
her  legal  studies  seemed  a  providential  indication,  and  her  hus- 
band said:  'If  you  can  talk  before  an  audience  you  can  talk 
before  a  court  or  jury,'  and  he  insisted  on  her  being  examined 
for  admission  to  the  bar.  Prior  to  this  time  she  had  prepared 
pleadings  and  written  arguments  for  the  courts,  but  without 
formal  admission  she  could  not  personally  appear.  She  was 
examined,  admitted,  and  took  the  oath  to  '  support  the  constitu- 
tion and  the  laws.'  Mrs.  Foster  was  the  first  woman  admitted 
to  practice  in  the  State  Supreme  Court.  She  defended  a  woman 
under  sentence  of  death,  and  after  a  ten  days'  trial,  in  which  our 
lady  lawyer  made  the  closing  argument,  the  verdict  of  the  jury 
was  modified  to  imprisonment  for  life.  Mrs.  Foster  enjoys  the 
absolute  confidence  and  support  of  her  husband  in  her  legal 
work.  He  was  her  instigator,  and  more  than  any  other,  rejoices 
in  it." 

One  of  the  most  successful  women  in  law  is  Miss 
Lavinia  Goodell,  of  Janesville,  Wis.,  who,  some  years 
ago,  was  employed  in  literary  work  in  the  office  of  Har- 
per's Bazar— a  shrewd,  quick-witted  girl,  fond  of  humor, 
studious  and  argumentative.  In  person  she  was  of 
medium  height,  but  looking  tall  from  her  slender,  erect 
figure,  blue-eyed,  and  with  light  brown  curling  hair. 
At  the  request  of  her  parents  she  resigned  her  position 
and  joined  them  in  the  West.  She  had  long  had  a  taste 
for  legal  reading,  and  displayed  decided  talent  for  trans- 
acting business,  and  in  her  early  girlish  days  secretly 
thought  she  should  like  to  be  a  lawyer.  But  at  that 
time  such  a  career  seemed  impossible  for  her,  and  she 


THE   PROFESSION   OF  LAW.  63 

gave  it  np  as  soon  as  the  idea  had  taken  shape,  to  do  the 
duty  that  lay  nearest  to  her. 

After  joining  her  parents  she  was  undecided  what  she 
should  do.  Then  arose  the  old  longing  to  study  law. 
She  had  the  leisure  for  it,  and  her  father  encouraged  her 
in  it.  A  lawyer  in  the  town  was  willing  to  help  her,  and 
so  she  began  to  study,  without,  however,  seeing  her  way 
clear  to  the  practice  of  the  law.  She  continued  her  read- 
ing, becoming  more  and  more  absorbed  in  it.  At  the  end 
of  three  years  of  study  she  decided  to  apply  for  admis- 
sion to  the  Circuit  Court,  was  examined,  passed  a  bril- 
liant examination,  and  was  admitted.  She  then  opened 
an  office  and  proceeded  in  a  perfectly  business-like  way 
to  practice  her  profession.  She  won  her  first  suit  in  a 
justice's  court,  and,  the  defendants  appealing,  she  won 
it  again  in  the  Circuit  Court.  This  success  gained  her 
considerable  reputation,  and  gave  her  a  good  start. 
Then  she  had  some  criminal  defenses  and  collections, 
resulting  in  suits,  in  which  she  had  fair  success.  But  a 
case  which  extended  her  reputation  throughout  the 
country  was  involving  considerable  money,  in  which  her 
client  was  a  woman.  The  case  was  carried  from  the 
County  and  Circuit  Court,  and  appealed  from  them  to 
the  Supreme  Court,  where  Miss  G-oodell  won.  According 
to  the  law  of  the  State  at  that  time,  her  admission  to  the 
Circuit  Court,  at  the  outset  of  her  legal  career,  admitted 
her  to  all  the  courts  in  the  State  but  the  Supreme  Court. 
Upon  carrying  up  her  case  and  applying  for  admission 
to  this,  the  Chief  Justice  refused  her,  on  the  ground  of 
sex.  She  afterwards  reviewed  his  opinion  on  her  own 
case,  and  unquestionably  had  the  better  of  him  in  the 


64 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


argument.  She  also  prepared  a  bill  and  sent  it  to  the 
State  Legislature,  providing  that  no  person  should  be 
refused  admission  to  the  bar  on  account  of  sex.  A  peti- 
tion asking  for  its  passage  was  signed  by  the  Circuit 
Judge  and  every  member  of  the  bar  in  the  county,  and  it 
passed,  although  strongly  contested  by  the  opposing 
party. 

Miss  Goodell  records  it  as  a  notable  fact,  that  her  best 
paying  clients  have  been  women. 


ioi)  «  sf « 


F  "  you  were  always  thinking,  be- 
cause you  had  studied  a  man's  pro- 
fession, that  no  one  would  think  of 
you  as  a  woman,  do  you  think  that 
could  make  any  difference  to  a  man 
that  had  the  soul  of  a  man  in  him  ? 
"I  don't  give  up  because  I'm  unfit  as  a 
woman.     I  might  be  a  man,  and  still  be  im- 
pulsive and  timid  and  nervous. 

"  Every  woman  physician  has  a  double  dis- 
advantage that  I  hadn't  the  strength  to  over- 
come— her  own  inexperience  and  the  distrust 
of  other  women." — Dr.  Breeri 's  Practice  by 
W.  D.  Howells. 

THE  WOMAN    DOCTOR. 

It  is  only  a  few  years  since  the  idea  of  a  woman  enter, 
ing  the  profession  of  medicine  and  graduating  as  a  doc- 
tor  was  something  so  quixotic,  if  not  actually  absurd, 
that  any  girl  who  alluded  to  such  a  vocation  was  rea- 
soned with  and  talked  to  as  if  she  had  contemplated 
moral  suicide.  Less  than  fifty  years  ago,  when  diseases 
were  usually  classed  under  the  heads  of  colds  or  fevers, 

5  65 


66  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

a  patient  who  was  sick  enough  to  need  medical  attention 
was  waited  on  by  a  pompous,  elderly  sort  of  person  who 
brought  the  whole  pharmacopoeia  of  medicine  with  him 
in  his  saddle  bags.  When  he  had  examined  the  patient's 
tongue,  felt  his  pulse,  and  consulted  an  old  silver  fob 
watch,  with  grave  and  decorous  air;  he  either  bled  or 
blistered — frequently  did  both — and  gave  copious  doses 
of  salts  and  senna,  tinct.  rhubarb,  and  a  calomel  pill  of 
colossal  size.  If  the  patient  grew  worse  his  head  was 
shaved;  and  if  the  fever  ran  high  he  was  forbidden  a 
drop  of  water  to  cool  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  nor  could  he 
eat  anything  but  arrow  root  and  water  gruel.  If  it  was 
the  old  typhus  fever,  which  adults  generally  had  in 
those  days,  the  fight  was  a  long,  hard  one,  for,  between 
the  treatment  and  the  fever,  there  was  not  much  chance 
of  life,  except  in  the  remedial  art  of  nature.  Medical 
science  has  now  discovered  a  number  of  new  diseases, 
and  developed  corresponding  cures.  The  old  saddle-bag 
dispensary  has  passed  out  of  sight,  and  a  fever-stricken 
patient  is  no  longer  depleted  by  phlebotomy. 

Among  the  new  dispensations  of  the  science  of  medi- 
cine the  lady  doctor  takes  a  prominent  part.  What 
would  the  Dr.  Johnsons  or  the  Abernethys,  of  the  old 
regime,  think  if  they  were  called  upon  to  consult  with 
Dr.  Mary  Jacobi  of  New  York,  Dr.  Nancy  Hill  of  Iowa, 
Dr.  Gertrude  Banks  or  Dr.  Helen  Warner  of  Michigan, 
all  ladies  of  the  highest  medical  standing,  with  diplomas 
from  the  best  medical  colleges  in  the  land,  with  an 
annual  practice  each  of  several  thousand  dollars,  repre- 
senting individually  the  States  of  New  York,  Iowa,  and 
Michigan.  The  utmost  recognition  these  skillful  scien- 

I 


THE   PROFESSION    OF   MEDICINE.  67 

tific  doctors  could  have  gained  from  the  old-time  medical 
man  would  have  been,  "  My  good  woman,  you  will  make 
an  excellent  nurse,  you  shall  have  my  endorsement." 

INTERESTING   STATISTICS. 

Yet  it  does  not  belong  to  this  century  to  bestow  on 
woman  the  first  medical  diploma.  In  1799  Mara  Zega 
was  a  doctor  of  medicine  in  Europe,  and  in  Padua  there 
were  famous  doctresses.  Laura  Bassi  was  elected  pro- 
fessor of  experimental  physics  in  1793.  The  universities 
of  Europe  had  rare  and  exceptional  cases  of  women  who 
excelled  as  surgeons,  and  were  highly  esteemed  for  their 
skill.  A  number  of  ladies,  some  of  them  members  of 
noble  families,  graduated  both  in  law  and  medicine  at 
Padua,  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  century.  The  first 
woman  who  was  ever  granted  a  diploma  in  the  medical 
profession  in  America  was  Elizabeth  Blackwell,  who,  in 
1855,  was  admitted  to  the  hospital  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
in  London,  as  walking  physician.  Ten  years  later  she 
gave  medical  lectures  in  that  city,  which  challenged  the 
attention  and  respect  of  the  whole  medical  fraternity. 
Dr.  Blackwell  founded  the  New  York  Infirmary,  where 
6,000  patients  were  treated  in  one  year.  Mrs.  Mary 
Jacobi,  of  New  York,  is  another  successful  and  promi- 
nent physician  who  studied  abroad  and  has  successfully 
competed  with  the  best  medical  talent  of  both  the  New 
and  the  Old  World. 

In  1876  the  College  of  Physicians  of  Dublin  opened  its 
doors  to  women,  and  has  graduated  a  number  since  that 
time. 

In  1877  the  senate  of  the  London  University  passed  a 


68  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

resolution  in  favor  of  admitting  women.  A  strong  debate 
ensued.  The  resolution  was  opposed  by  a  few  medical 
men,  but  it  passed,  and  women  are  now  admitted  to  lec- 
tures and  the  usual  degrees. 

In  1873  a  ukase  was  published  in  Russia,  admitting 
women  to  all  its  medical  schools. 

In  1873  the  Berne  University  admitted  lady  students, 
and  in  1875  there  were  thirty- two  ladies  in  the  medical 
department. 

In  1876  the  fifteen  universities  of  Italy  were  in  like 
manner  thrown  open  to  ladies,  and  in  1873  a  lady  gradu- 
ate took  her  degree  at  Pisa. 

In  1870  the  Vienna  University  admitted  women  to  the 
medical  degree,  and  in  1873  a  lady  student  took  the 
prize  in  operative  surgery. 

In  Russia  twelve  female  doctors  are  now  officially 
engaged  in  teaching  medicine  to  women;  thirty  are  in 
the  service  of  the  Zemstras,  and  forty  others  are  serving 
in  the  hospitals.  Twenty-five  female  doctors  who  took 
part  in  the  military  operations  of  1877  have  been  decor- 
ated by  order  of  the  Emperor,  with  the  order  of  St.  Stan- 
islas of  the  third  class.  The  number  of  woman  stu- 
dents in  Russia  is  steadily  increasing. 

There  is  always  among  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  and  in  the 
Catholic  hospitals  one  sister  competent  to  compound  and 
administer  medicines,  and  prescribe  successfully  for  the 
sick. 

In  1870  a  state  decree  in  Holland  opened  the  depart- 
ment of  apothecaries  to  women,  and  in  1873  the  Univer- 
sity of  Groningen,  Sweden,  passed  the  first  lady  gradu- 
ate in  medicine. 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   MEDICINE.  69 

The  great  Swedish  University  at  Apral  has  thrown  its 
doors  open,  without  restriction  of  sex,  except  in  theology 
and  law. 

In  1875  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  of 
Ontario,  at  Toronto,  gave  its  iirst  degree  to  a  woman. 

The  first  medical  school  for  women  was  founded  in 
1848,  in  Boston,  by  Elizabeth  Blackwell. 

There  are  some  twenty-five  ladies  in  the  Paris  School 
of  Medicine,  and  in  1870,  or  thereabouts,  Miss  Mary  Put- 
man  applied  to  the  Paris  School  of  Medicine  and  was 
admitted.  Mrs.  Garret  Anderson  followed  her,  and  these 
ladies  afterwards  took  their  degrees  from  the  Ecole  de 
Medecine. 

Of  198  students  in  the  Boston  University  School  of 
Medicine,  a  few  years  ago,  79  were  women,  and  the 
report  from  the  directors  was  that  the  influences  of  the 
sexes  was  naturally  beneficial.  A  letter  from  one  of  the 
principals  of  the  Cleveland  Homeopathic  Hospital  Col- 
lege says:  "In  so  far  as  woman's  presence  exerts  any 
influence  upon  man,  there  can  be  no  question  as  to  its 
character  and  degree.  It  is  broad,  decided,  and  most 
healthful.  It  is  an  influence  of  restraint  on  rudeness, 
boorishness,  and  vulgarity."  The  University  of  Michi- 
gan Homeopathic  College  says: 

"The  experience  of  two  winters  in  the  University  has 
incontestably  proved  that  the  practice  is  fraught  with 
benefit  to  both  teachers  and  men  and  women  students." 
The  allopathic  departments  are  even  more  enthusiastic. 

The  woman  physician  has  the  same  course  of  study  to 
take,  the  same  results  to  show,  and  the  same  recommend- 

I 

ation  to   the  public    that  the    male  physician  has,   a 


70  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

diploma  from  a  medical  college,  and  a  certificate  from 
the  State  Board  of  Health.  In  the  end  the  public  must 
be  its  own  best  tribunal,  for  mistakes  are  frequently 
made  in  the  name  of  science,  not  only  by  women  but  by 
men,  and  the  people,  in  either  case,  are  the  sufferers. 
As  Carlyle  has  aptly  said:  "Against  stupidity  the  gods 
are  powerless."  In  London  a  public  hospital  advertised 
for  a  medical  man.  The  English  people  are  the  most 
conservative  people  in  the  world,  yet,  when  Dr.  Anna 
Clark  applied  for  the  situation,  and  submitted  her  testi- 
monials, she  was  unanimously  elected. 

In  Chicago  there  are  several  lady  doctors  who  fill 
chairs  at  the  colleges  of  medicine  belonging  to  the  dif- 
ferent schools.  There  are  over  fifty  practicing  female 
doctors  in  that  city,  and  in  several  instances  both  hus- 
band and  wife  are  medical  practitioners  in  different 
schools.  And  just  here  arises  a  question  of  medical 
ethics  which  has  been  put  to  a  severe  test  by  the  recent 
trial  of  Dr.  Pardee  of  the  State  Medical  Society  of  Con- 
necticut. After  ten  years  of  happy  married  life,  Mrs. 
Pardee  studied  medicine  herself,  and  became  a  graduate 
of  a  homeopathic  school  of  medicine  in  New  York.  She 
set  up  her  sign  on  one  door-post,  her  husband's  remain- 
ing on  the  other,  and  in  a  very  little  while  she  had  a  suc- 
cessful practice  of  her  own.  The  success  of  Dr.  Pardee 
and  his  wife,  Dr.  Emily  Pardee,  seems  to  have  led  to  an 
investigation  of  their  professional  relation  by  the  doctors 
of  the  regular  medical  school,  and  one  evening  the  pair 
received  a  call  from  one  of  them,  who  asked  the  male 
Dr.  Pardee  if  he  consulted  with  his  wife.  The  answer 
.  was  nlore  forcible  than  polite,  and  the  investigating  doc- 


THE  PROFESSION  OF  MEDICINE.  71 

tor  returned  no  wiser  than  he  came.  There  was  a  meet- 
ing of  the  faculty  of  the  State  Medical  Society,  and  they 
discussed  all  the  pros  and  cons  in  the  matter,  but  failed 
to  come  to  a  decision,  or  to  substantiate  the  charges 
against  Dr.  Pardee,  and  the  State  Society  referred  it  back 
to  the  County  Society  for  further  action. 

Meanwhile  the  buggies  of  the  two  doctors  came  round 
to  the  door  as  usual,  took  the  doctors  on  their  several 
rounds,  and,  when  the  drive  was  over,  the  homeopathic 
and  the  allopathic  horse  ate  their  hay  out  of  the  same 
rack,  and  the  two  Drs.  Pardee  sat  down  to  dine  together. 

In  Detroit,  Michigan,  one  of  the  most  conservative  of 
old  established  cities,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  wealthy 
and  beautiful,  woman  doctors  have  long  since  ceased  to 
be  a  novelty.  The  best  surgeons  and  doctors  in  the 
place  consult  with  them,  and  they  have  all  the  business 
they  can  attend  to,  and  are  remarkably  successful  in  dif- 
ficult and  severe  cases.  A  number  of  female  students  in 
clinics  attend  the  different  hospitals,  and  are  in  training 
for  nurses  and  physicians.  At  the  Michigan  College  of 
Medicine,  located  there,  they  are  admitted  to  lectures 
and  classes,  and  to  the  practice  of  the  dissecting  room. 
Fair-haired,  blue-eyed  women,  with  delicate,  nervous 
organizations,  who  are  represented  as  too  weak  for  such 
an  arduous  course  of  study,  will  cheerfully  lop  off  a  limb 
from  a  subject  on  the  dissecting  table  when  the  interests 
» of  science  demand  it. 

AMUSING    INCIDENTS. 

There  is  a  ludicrous  side  to  the  work  when  women  are 
engaged  in  it,  at  times,  that  lightens  its  severity  and 


72  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

shows  thafc  the  female  doctor  is  not  yet  universally 
adopted.  A  farmer  living  near  a  large  Western  town 
was  sent  in  hurriedly  to  the  city  to  bring  the  first  doctor 
he  could  find.  He  reined  his  horses  up  at  the  door  of  an 
office  bearing  a  doctor's  sign,  went  in,  and  looking  at  the 
neat  little  lady  in  the  consulting  room,  said  hurriedly: 

"Where's  the  doctor ?    I  want  him  right  off." 

"I  am  the  doctor,"  said  the  little  lady  quietly. 

The  man  turned  red,  whistled,  then  looked  perplexed. 

"Whew!"  he  said  slowly,  "I  hadn't  calculated  on  a 
woman  doctor !" 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling  brightly,  "a  good 
many  people  had  not.  Will  you  take  me,  or  ride  a  few 
blocks  further  for  a  doctor  of  your  own  sex  ? " 

The  farmer  looked  at  her  and  said  grimly,  "I  haven't 
much  time  to  wait.  Jump  in.  I  reckon  Polly  will  be 
glad  to  see  you,  anyhow." 

And  Polly  was  glad,  and  has  employed  the  lady  doc- 
tor ever  since,  when  she  or  any  of  the  family  are  ill. 

When  Charles  Reade  the  English  novelist,  wrote  his 
brilliant  story  of  "A  Woman  Hater,"  he  did  more  for 
the  advancement  of  woman,  in  the  paths  of  medical 
science,  than  whole  years  of  legislation  had  done.  He 
won  over  to  her  side  the  prejudiced  of  her  own  sex.  In 
speaking  of  women  in  this  work  he  says,  in  the  closing 
chapter:  "They  are.  eternally  tempted  to  folly,  yet 
snubbed  the  moment  they  would  be  wise.  A  million 
shops  spread  their  nets  and  entice  them  by  their  direst 
foible.  Their  very  mothers — for  want  of  medical  knowl- 
edge in  the  sex — clasp  the  fatal  idiotic  corset  on  their 
growing  bodies,  though  thin  as  a  lath,  so  the  girl  grows 


WHEW  I  I  HADN'T  CALCULATED  ON  A  WOMAN  DOCTOR!' 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   MEDICINE.  73 

up  crippled  in  the  ribs  and  lungs  by  her  own  mother; 
and  her  life,  too,  is  in  stays — cabined,  cribbed,  confined. 
Unless  she  can  paint  or  act,  or  write  novels,  every  path 
of  honorable  ambition  is  closed  to  her. 

I  say  that  to  open  the  study  and  practice  of  medicine 
to  women-folk,  under  the  infallible  safeguard  of  a  stiff 
public  examination,  will  be  to  rise  in  respect  for  human 
rights  to  the  level  of  European  nations,  who  do  not  brag 
about  just  freedom  half  as  loud  as  we  do,  and  to  respect 
the  constitutional  rights  of  many  million  citizens,  who  all 
pay  the  taxes  like  men,  and  by  the  contract  with  the 
State,  implied  in  that  payment,  buy  the  clear  human 
right  they  have  yet  to  go  down  on  their  knees  for.  But 
it  will  also  impart  into  medical  science  a  new  and  less 
theoretical,  but  cautious,  teachable,  observant  kind  of 
intellect;  it  will  give  the  larger  half  of  the  nations  an 
honorable  ambition  and  an  honorable  pursuit,  toward 
which  their  hearts  and  instincts  are  bent  by  nature  her- 
self; it  will  tend  to  elevate  this  whole  sex,  and  its  young 
children,  male  as  well  as  female,  and  so  will  advance  the 
civilization  of  the  world,  which  in  ages  past,  in  our  own 
day,  and  in  all  times,  hath  and  doth  and  will  keep  step 
exactly  with  the  progress  of  women  toward  mental 
equality  with  men. 

THE  LADY  PHYSICIAN. 


Oh,  who  is  this,  who  casts  her  rose  of  youth 
Beneath  the  feet  of  pain,  nor  fancieth 

The  lily  of  her  ladyhood,  in  sooth, 
Too  white  to  bloom  beside  the  couch  of  death? 


74  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

It  is  the  woman-healer  here  who  stands 
With  tender  touch  upon  the  cruel  knife ; 

With  thought-engraven  brows  and  skillful  hands, 
And  yearning  heart  to  save  the  house  of  life. 

Bless  her,  O  women,  for  it  was  your  call, 
It  was  the  myriad  cry  of  your  distress 

That  urged  her  outward  from  the  cloistered  hall 
To  make  the  burden  of  your  anguish  less. 

Shine  on  her,  stars,  while  forth  she  goes  alone 
Beneath  the  night,  by  angel  pity  led; 

And  shed  such  lustre  as  your  rays  have  thrown 
On  bridal  steps  that  shine  with  lover's  tread ; 

Her  pathway  scent,  O  flowers  that  deck  the  field, 
As  from  her  hurrying  feet  the  dews  are  driven, 

With  no  less  fragrance  than  your  clusters  yield 
By  dimpled  hands  to  happy  mothers  given. 

And  ye,  O  men,  who  watch  her  toilsome  days 
With  doubted  lip  in  half  derision  curled, 

Scant  not  her  meed  of  courtesies  and  praise, 
The  bloom  and  starlight  of  the  spirit  world. 

For  with  a  sense  of  loss  too  fine  to  own, 
The  nestward  longing  of  the  carrier  dove, 

She  turneth  from  her  first,  entitled  throne, 
And  all  the  household  walks  that  women  love. 

The  gracious  ministers  of  little  deeds 
And  service  for  the  few,  by  love  made  sweet ; 

From  these  she  turneth  unto  wider  needs, 
And  pours  her  ointment  on  the  stranger's  feet. 

Perchance,  amid  the  clash  of  busy  days, 
She  may  lay  by  a  trick  or  two  of  charms, 

May  miss  of  those  caressing,  dainty  ways 
That  women  learn  from  babies  in  their  arms. 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  MEDICINE.  75 

But  even  while  the  battle  scars  her  face, 

And  makes  her  voice  stern  in  the  combat  rude, 

She  but  refines  her  best,  peculiar  grace, 
And  proves  herself  forgetful  womanhood. 

Kaiherine  Lee  Bates. 

A   PHYSIOLOGICAL   PROPOSAL. 

Miss  Mary  Flynn  was  a  Boston  girl  who  was  studying 
medicine,  and  Mr.  Budd  was  her  devoted  admirer.  One 
evening  while  they  sat  together  on  the  sofa,  Mr.  Budd 
was  wondering  how  he  should  manage  to  propose.  Miss 
Flynn  was  explaining  certain  physiological  facts  for  him. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  that  thousands  of  people 
are  actually  ignorant  that  they  smell  with  their  olfac- 
tory peduncle." 

"  Millions  of  them,"  said  Mr.  Budd. 

"  And  Aunt  Mary  wouldn't  believe  me  when  I  told  her 
she  couldn't  wink  without  a  sphincter  muscle." 

"How  unreasonable!" 

"Why,  a  person  can  not  kiss  without  a  sphincter." 

"Indeed." 

"I  know  it  is  so." 

"  May  I  try  if  I  can  ?" 

"Oh,  Mr.  Budd,  it  is  too  bad  for  you  to  make  light  of 
such  a  subject." 

Then  he  tried  it,  and  while  he  held  her  hand  she 
explained  to  him  about  the  muscles  of  that  portion  of 
the  human  body. 

"Willie,"  whispered  Miss  Flynn,  very  faintly. 

"What,  darling?" 

"  T  can  hear  your  heart  beat." 

14  It  beats  only  for  you,  my  angel." 


76  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

"And  it  sounds  as  if  out  of  order.  The  ventricular 
contraction  is  not  uniform." 

"  Small  wonder  for  that,  when  it's  bursting  with  joy." 

"You  must  put  yourself  under  treatment  for  it.  I 
will  give  you  some  medicine." 

"Its  your  own  property,  darling;  do  what  you  please 
with  it." 

TO  A  LADY  DOCTOR. 


Yes,  Doctor,  your  physic  I've  taken. 

That  surely  should  conquer  my  ills; 
The  bottle  was  solemnly  shaken, 

I  dote  on  these  dear  little  pills. 
I've  followed  your  rules  as  to  diet, 

I  don't  know  the  taste  of  a  tart; 
But,  though  I've  kept  carefully  quiet, 
The  pain's  at  my  heart. 

Of  course  you've  done  good ;  convalescence 
Seems  dawning.     And  yet  it  is  true, 

I  fancy  the  light  of  your  presence 
Does  more  than  your  physic  can  do. 

I'm  well  when  you're  here,  but,  believe  me, 
Each  day  when  fate  dooms  us  to  part 

Come  strange  sensations  to  grieve  me— 
That  must  be  the  heart. 

Your  knowledge  is  truly  stupendous, 
Each  dainty  prescription  I  see, 

I  read  " Hauslus  statam  sumendus," 
What  wonder  you  took  the  M.  D. ! 

I  hang  on  each  word  that  you  utter 
With  sage  ^Esculapian  art, 

But  feel  in  a  terrible  flutter — 

It  comes  from  the  heart. 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   MEDICINE.  77 

Have  you  ever  felt  the  emotion 

That  stethoscope  ne'er  could  reveal? 
If  so,  you'll  perchance  have  a  notion 

Of  all  that  I've  felt,  and  still  feel. 
Oh,  say,  could  you  ever  endure  me? 

Dear  Doctor,  you  blush  and  you  start. 
There's  only  one  thing  that  can  cure  me — 

Take  me — and  my  heart! 

Punch. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Social  Science  Association,  Dr. 
Emily  Pope  read  a  paper  on  the  Practice  of  Medicine  by 
Women  in  the  United  States.  The  object  was  to  show 
to  what  extent  they  were  practicing  medicine  in  this 
country;  whether  the  majority  of  women  graduates 
devote  themselves  to  its  practice;  how  far  their  pecu- 
niary success  shows  a  demand  on  the  part  of  the  public 
for  educated  women  physicians;  what  effect  the  strain  of 
practice  has  upon  their  health;  and  with  what  results 
to  their  professional  career.  Dr.  Pope's  report  is  as 
follows: 

"  The  470  circulars  sent  out  to  woman  physicians  have  brought 
statistics  showing  that  390  are  engaged  in  active  practice,  11 
never  practiced,  29  have  retired  after  practicing,  12  after  mar- 
riage, 7  retired  from  ill-health,  and  5  have  taken  up  other  work. 
These  women  are  in  26  States,  New  York,  Massachusetts,  and 
Pennsylvania  having  the  largest  proportion.  Of  those  heard 
from,  75  per  cent,  were  single  when  they  began  the  study,  19 
per  cent,  were  married  and  6  per  cent,  widows;  average  age 
when  they  began  the  study,  27  years;  144  practiced  less  than  1 
year;  123  between  5  and  10  years;  23  over  20  years;  341  prac- 
ticed regular  medicine;  13  homeopathy;  10  give  no  answer;  77 
report  that  they  supported  themselves  from  the  beginning  of 
their  practice;  34  in  less  than  1  year;  57  after  the  first  year;  34 


i 
jz^^^^z^^^^^^. 


78  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

in  2  years;  14  in  3  years;  10  in  various  periods  over  3  years; 
138  say  their  incomes  are  still  insufficient,  or  make  no  reply;  12 
never  practiced;  22  are  in  hospital  practice;  30  are  not  depen- 
dent on  professional  income;  only  11  are  left  who  can  fairly  be 
said  to  have  practiced  over  two  years  without  supporting  them- 
selves; 32  per  cent,  of  these  women  have  one  or  more  partially 
dependent  on  them;  269  are  in  general  practice;  45  make  a  spe- 
cialty of  female  diseases;  4  ophthalmology.  Of  130  who  have 
practiced  less  than  5  years,  76  report  health  good;  51  health 
improved;  3  health  not  good.  Of  115  who  practiced  from  5  to 
10  years,  58  report  health  good;  29,  improved;  8,  not  good.  Of 
38  practicing  10  to  15  years,  25  report  health  good;  12,  improved; 
1,  not  good.  Of  14  practicing  15  to  20  years,  13  are  in  good 
health;  1,  improved.  Of  23  who  have  had  over  twenty  years 
experience,  15  are  in  good  health;  1,  improved;  1,  not  good. 
Of  the  13  reporting  poor  health,  only  4  ascribe  their  illness  to 
practice. 

"  When  the  large  proportion  of  women  who  have  practiced 
from  five  to  thirty  years,  is  seen,  without  breaking  down,  but 
with  an  improvement  of  their  physical  condition,  it  seems  as  if 
some  unnecessary  anxiety  had  been  wasted  on  this  point.  We 
do  not  think  it  would  be  possible  to  find  a  better  record  of 
health  among  an  equal  number  of  women  taken  at  random  from 
all  the  country.  In  fifteen  States,  women  physicians  are  on  an 
equality  with  men  as  to  membership  in  county  and  State  socie- 
ties. Sixty-five  have  married  since  their  graduation,  of  whom 
nineteen  married  physicians;  fourteen  ceased  practice  after  mar- 
riage, the  others  continue  in  practice;  sixty-seven  children  have 
been  born  to  them  (without  inquiry,  many  report  children  strong 
and  healthy).  In  Pennsylvania,  Massachusetts,  Iowa  and  Mich- 
igan, <vx>men  physicians  have  lately  received  appointments  in 
State  institutions.  The  board  of  foreign  missions  have  sent  out 
about  twenty  women  physicians,  all  of  whom  have  been  success- 


THE   PKOFESSION   OF   MEDICINE.  79 

• 

f  ul,  obtaining  practice  where  men  could  not.  In  every  case  their 
success  has  been  marked.  Women  would  prefer  not  to  receive 
all  their  education  from  women's  schools,  as  they  want  the  best 
to  be  had  in  all  schools." 

For  this,  as  for  all  other  professions  in  which  the  stu- 
dent would  compete  successfully,  there  must  be  a  cer- 
tain aptitude,  a  love  for  the  work,  and  a  large  amount  of 
firmness  of  will  and  physicial  courage.  A  year  or  two 
spent  in  the  study  of  medicine,  even  if  the  practice  is 
abandoned,  would  be  a  much  better  use  of  time  than 
spending  it  in  idle  accomplishments.  It  is  always  best 
for  the  student  to  attend  the  college  of  her  own  State, 
graduating  from  that  and  finishing  her  course  by  a  year 
of  instruction  abroad,  or  in  some  desirable  institution  in 
another  State.  As  a  student  her  work  never  will  cease. 
There  must  always  be  close,  careful  study,  lectures  to 
attend  and  experimental  work  to  be  done.  She  must 
explore  every  nook  of  the  wide  field  of  science,  testing 
and  laboring  for  humanity's  sake.  There  are  many  ills 
and  few  cures;  but  the  young  practitioner  must  always 
remember  this  golden  rule — relief  is,  next  to  a  cure,  the 
best  remedial  agent. 

The  incomes  of  women  doctors  average  one  thousand 
dollars  a  year.  There  are  a  few  notables  who  receive  as 
high  as  eight  or  ten  thousand,  but  there  are  also  a 
numerous  class  who  do  not  have  more  than  five  or  six 
hundred  a  year. 

Dr.  Alice  Stockham,  who  has  for  many  years  been  a 
practicing  physician  in  Chicago,  and  whose  husband  is 
also  a  doctor,  is  the  author  of  the  following: 


80  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

• 

REQUISITES    FOE   A    PHYSICIAN. 

"  To  be  a  successful  physician  a  woman  must  be  a  lady — a 
womanly  woman.  No  aping  of  masculine  habits,  dress  or  foi- 
bles will  conduce  to  success.  She  must  have  an  affinity  for  the 
work,  feel  at  home  in  the  sick  room,  with  a  desire  and  tact  to 
relieve  suffering,  devoid  of  any  morbid  sensibility  at  sight  of 
pain,  offensive  deformities  and  ghastly  injuries  and  operations; 
she  must  be  born  to  command,  firm  in  purpose,  and  quick  to 
execute,  at  the  same  time  have  dignity  and  self-control.  Nothing 
must  escape  her  observation.  She  must  be  able  to  reason  from 
cause  to  effect,  strong  in  convictions,  but  slow  to  give  an  opin- 
ion. She  needs  a  love  for  scientific  research,  and  the  ability  to 
apply  herself  to  study." 

Among  the  colleges  which  admit  women  on  the  same 
terms  with  the  male  students,  are  the  following: 

The  Woman's  Medical  College,  Philadelphia,  Pa.; 
Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.;  Bellevue  Medi- 
cal College,  New  York;  University  of  Michigan,  Ann 
Arbor;  Michigan  College  of  Medicine,  Detroit;  Toronto 
University,  Toronto,  Ontario;  Queen's  College,  Kingston, 
Ontario. 


S  it  any  weakness,  pray,  to  be  wrought 
upon  by  exquisite  music,  to  feel  its  won- 
drous harmonies  searching  the  subtlest 
windings  of  your  soul,  the  delicate  fibers 
of  life  where  no  memory  can  penetrate, 
as  it  binds  together  your  whole  being, 
past  and  present,  in  one  unspeakable 
vibration. — Adam  Bede. 


Music  resembles  poetry;  in  each 

Are  numerous  graces  which  no  method  teach, 

And  which  a  master-hand  alone  can  reach. — Pope. 

"  Come,  sing  to  me  of  heaven, 

Sing  to  me  ere  I  die; 
Sing  songs  of  holy  ecstasy, 
To  waft  my  soul  on  high. — Old  Hymn. 

NEGLECTED    MUSIC. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact,  and  one,  too,  upon  which 
much  unfavorable  comment  has  been  made,  that  almost 
as  soon  as  a  maiden  becomes  a  wife  and  enters  upon  the 
duties  of  a  new  existence,  she  ceases  to  practice  the 
accomplishment  with  which  she  was  wont  to  amuse  her- 
self and  entertain  her  friends,  previous  to  her  marriage. 
One  of  the  common  excuses  which  a  young  wife  has  at 
her  command,  when  her  husband  asks  her  to  play,  is 

6  81 


82  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

this:  "I  am  all  out  of  practice,"  or,  "You  know  I 
have  not  opened  the  piano  for  months."  This,  too,  before 
other  duties  have  interfered  to  occupy  her  time.  It 
would  seem  as  if,  having  married  and  settled  herself  in 
life,  she  had  no  further  incentive  to  exert  herself,  and 
after  a  year  or  two  she  finds  that  she  has  forgotten  her 
music,  can  no  longer  execute  with  ease,  and  does  not 
attempt  the  now  arduous  task  of  practicing  an  hour  or 
I  two  every  day,  in  order  to  learn  a  new  piece.  Her  hus- 

band is  very  fond  of  music,  but  soon  finds  that  he  is 
dependent  upon  the  good  nature  of  visitors  who  do  play. 
These  are  usually  young  ladies  who  are  quite  willing  to 
entertain  him  and  show  off  their  own  accomplishments. 
I  need  not  follow  the  suggestion  any  further,  but  human 
nature  is  sometimes  very  weak,  and  the  serpent  too  often 
enters  Eden  disguised  as  an  attractive  siren.  The  fol- 
lowing story  ends  happily,  and  may  cause  some  serious 
thinking,  followed  by  a  reform  in  the  right  direction, 
before  it  is  too  late.  It  is  an  incident  from  real  life, 
related  by  a  well-known  music  teacher  of  New  York 
city,  and  it  contains  a  moral  worthy  of  recognition  by 
I' j  wives: 

TWICE   IN  LOVE. 

Two  years  ago  a  card  was  brought  into  my  music-room 
bearing  the  name  of  a  well-known  and  fashionable  mar- 
i|:  ried  lady.     When  she  was  ushered  in  I  was  surprised  to 

see  so  young  looking  a  woman,  though,  to  be  sure,  she 
is  not  yet  forty,  and  a  fair  complexion  and  clear  blue 
eyes  made  her  look  younger.  She  seemed  a  little  embar- 
rassed, but  asked  me  to  try  her  voice.  I  did  so,  and 
found  it  uncultivated,  but  it  was  singularly  fresh  and 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   MUSIC.  83 

sweet;  in  quality  a  light  soprano.  I  told  her  so,  and  her 
face  flushed  eagerly  as  she  asked  : 

"Processor,  could  you  teach  me  to  sing?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "if  you  choose  to  apply  yourself 
earnestly." 

"I  will;  and  if  you  can  manage  it  so  that  I  need  not 
be  seen,  and  that  no  one  knows  of  it,  I  will  take  a  lesson 
every  day." 

We  made  the  best  arrangement  we  could,  and  the  lady 
never  failed  to  appear  promptly  at  the  hour.  She  was 
so  anxious  and  so  persevering  that  she  made  the  most 
extraordinary  progress,  and  when  spring  came  her  voice 
had  so  strengthened  and  developed  as  to  be  almost 
beyond  recognition. 

During  the  summer  I  heard  nothing  of  her  beyond 
mention  in  the  society  papers  of  her  being  at  Saratoga. 
In  the  fall  she  called  upon  me,  and  taking  both  my  hands 
in  hers,  shook  them  earnestly  as  she  said  : 

"Professor,  I  have  come  to  thank  you  for  making  me 
the  happiest  woman  alive  !" 

She  then  told  me  that  her  husband,  to  whom  she  was 
deeply  attached,  was  passionately  fond  of  vocal  music, 
and  had  always  regretted  that  she  could  not  sing  to  him. 

She  had  never  cultivated  her  voice  before  marriage, 
and  afterwards  the  coming  of  children  and  the  claims 
of  society  had  prevented  her  attempting  it.  But  an 
unlucky  day  came  when  Mr.  R made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  lovely  little  widow,  with  a  charming  voice,  who 
was  always  ready  and  willing  to  sing  sweet  songs  to  him, 
and  he  gradually  fell  into  the  habit  of  spending  many  of 
his  evenings  with  her. 


84  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

At  heart  devoted  to  his  wife,  he  was  unconscious  of 
his  gradual  neglect  of  her,  and  would  have  been  aston- 
ished had  she  resented  his  open  enjoyment  of  these  tete- 
a-tetes.  About  the  widow  I  am  not  prepared  to  speak. 

Mrs.  R ,  like  a  sensible  woman,  did  not  resent  it,  but 

undermined  the  enemy,  as  you  will  see.  Her  music  les- 
sons she  kept  a  profound  secret  from  her  family.  In  the 
summer  they  went,  as  usual,  to  Saratoga,  and  took  pos- 
session of  one  of  the  pretty  cottages  at  the  United  States 
Hotel. 

The  morning  after  their  arrival  the  local  newspapers 
contained  a  notice  that  the  leading  soprano  of  the  Epis- 
copal church  was  ill  with  a  throat  affection,  and  the  con- 
gregation was  asked  to  make  due  allowance  for  the  dis- 
abled choir.  The  next  morning  (Sunday),  Mr.  R , 

with  two  of  the  children,  wended  his  way  to  the  church 

of  his  belief,  Mrs.  R having  excused  herself  from 

accompanying  them. 

After  the  opening  service  the  clergyman  announced 
that  a  lady  from  New  York  had  kindly  volunteered  to 
sing  in  place  of  the  sick  soprano,  and,  in  consequence, 
the  musical  programme  would  be  the  same  as  usual.  A 
few  moments  later  a  clear,  sweet  voice  rang  through  the 
church,  touching  the  hearts  of  the  people  perhaps  even 
more  through  the  exquisite  expression  and  feeling  which 
the  music  had  rendered  than  the  qualities  of  the  voice 
itself.  Mr.  R —  was  fascinated,  delighted,  and  inwardly 
made  comparisons  between  it  and  the  bewitching  widow, 
not  flattering  to  the  latter.  After  the  services  were  over 
he  eagerly  sought  the  clergyman  to  enquire  the  name  of 


THE  PROFESSION   OF   MUSIC.  85 

the  charming  soprano,  whose  face  he  had  not  been  able 
to  see  from  his  seat. 

"Come  with  me  and  I  will  introduce  you,"  said  the 

clergyman,  who  knew  Mr.  R by  reputation.  They 

entered  the  choir  together,  and  the  good  man  began, 

"Miss  Brown,  permit  me  to  introduce  "  when  he 

was  interrupted  by  Mr.  R ejaculating,  "Great 

heavens,  it  is  my  wife!"  and  place  and  company  not- 
withstanding, he  gave  her  a  hearty  embrace  in  his 
delight  and  surprise.  To  cut  the  story  short,  he  fell 
in  love  with  her  all  over  again,  the  singing  siren  was 
forgotten,  and  I  don't  believe  you  can  find  a  happier 

couple  in  this  great  city.  Mr.  R gave  his  wife  a 

magnificent  set  of  diamonds,  which  she  wears  with  a 
great  deal  of  pride.  All  of  which  really  happened. 

Music  is  one  of  the  few  accomplishments  which  can  be 
turned  to  account  as  a  means  of  support.  A  good  player 
upon  the  piano — one  who  understands  the  whole  theory 
of  music — can  always  find  a  few  pupils  if  she  is  happy 
in  her  method  of  imparting  instruction.  There  are,  to 
be  sure,  a  great  many  music  teachers,  but  there  are  also 
many  pupils,  and  every  year  new  ones  are  added  to  the 
list,  as  children  grow  old  enough  to  begin  with  their  les- 
sons. Fifty  cents  a  lesson  is  considered  a  low  price  for 
a  good  teacher;  seventy  cents  to  two  dollars  being  the 
rates  employed  by  ordinary  teachers,  while  professors  of 
the  higher  order  of  music  receive  from  three  to  five  dol- 
lars a  lesson.  Music  teachers  make  a  commission  upon 
every  piece  of  music  they  supply  to  their  pupils.  This 
is  only  fair,  as  it  costs  the  pupil  no  more  than  if  pur- 
chased from  the  dealer,  who  furnishes  it  to  her  teacher  at 


86  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

wholesale  rates,  and  saves  the  pupil  the  time  and  trouble 
of  making  a  selection.  It  sometimes  happens  that  families 
expect  the  music  teacher  to  furnish  the  pieces  at  a  lower 
figure,  and  she  deducts  her  commission  rather  than  lose 
their  custom.  This  is  taking  an  ungenerous  advantage 
of  one  who  finds  it  hard  enough  at  all  times  to  eke  out  a 
meager  support,  and  is  one  of  the  many  stumbling  blocks 
which  good,  unthinking  people  place  in  the  way  of  one 
who  seeks  to  earn  an  honest  living,  and  which  is  not  to 
their  credit  in  any  way. 

If  a  young  teacher  finds  too  much  competition  at  fifty 
cents  a  lesson,  let  her  reduce  the  price  until  she  estab- 
lishes a  name,  and  has  proved  that  "nothing  succeeds 
like  success."  Then,  with  both  ability  and  experience 
to  assist  her,  she  can  venture  to  assert  her  right  to  a 
fair  compensation  for  valuable  service. 

Teachers  of  the  harp,  guitar,  violin,  organ,  zither,  and 
other  instruments  can  be  found  in  every  town,  who  make 
a  living  out  of  teaching,  but  often  a  precarious  one, 
owing  to  the  caprices  of  patrons,  who  withdraw  their 
custom  at  the  most  inopportune  time.  Of  course  ladies 
who  find  employment  in  schools,  seminaries,  or  have  an 
established  patronage  of  their  own,  are  to  be  congratu- 
lated, as  even  the  drudgery  of  music  is  delightful  in 
comparison  to  many  other  methods  of  support. 

Vocal  music  is  also  a  source  of  revenue  to  its  possessor. 
A  fine  voice  has  always  a  commercial  value,  especially 
very  fine  ones,  such  as  that  of  Christine  Nilsson, 
Adeline  Patti,  or  our  own  Clara  Louise  Kellogg,  and 
Annie  Louise  Gary.  Each  of  the  above-named  has 
made  a  large  fortune  by  her  voice,  received  the  notes  of 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  MUSIC.  87 

commerce  for  the  notes  of  song  in  rich  profusion,  and 
made  fame  as  well  as  wealth.  In  music  and  in  the 
drama  women  are  paid  as  well  as  men  for  their  art. 

And  in  this,  as  in  other  and  less  noble  professions, 
mediocrity  can  not  reach  the  high  vantage  ground  of 
success.  There  may  be  a  great  army  of  singers  whose 
sweetest  notes  are  never  developed  here, 


who  die 


With  all  their  music  in  them," 

and  the  world  is  unconscious  of  its  loss;  but  there  are  also 
a  number  found  in  every  community  who  not  only  sing 
execrably  themselves,  but  persist  in  teaching  their  execra- 
ble methods  to  others,  not  for  any  compensation,  but 
through  the  force  of  example.  There  are  others  who  are 
not  Parepas  or  Nilssons,  but  whose  home-singing  is  a 
source  of  constant  gratification  even  to  the  educated  ear. 
There  are  few  mothers  who  can  not  croon  old  nursery 
songs  to  their  children;  but  there  are  some  whose  melo- 
dious numbers  are  educational  in  a  high  degree.  In 
music  it  is  almost  impossible,  in  this  age,  to  make  a  fail- 
ure; the  critical  public  taste  demands  the  best,  both  in 
instrumental  and  vocal,  and  it  is  well  to  understand  this 
before  lavishing  money  on  a  mediocre  voice,  or  capacity 
to  offer  it. 

PLAYING   ON  OLD   PIANOS. 

f  Sometimes  we  see  an  old  piano  standing  in  a  house, 
and  hear  parents  say,  "We  thought  it  would  do  well 
enough  for  the  children  to  learn  to  play  on."  They 
have  imbibed  the  idea  that  learning  to  run  the  fingers 
over  the  keys  is  learning  to  play  the  piano,  and  no  mat- 


88  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

ter  how  much  out  of  tune  the  instrument  may  be,  "it 
will  do  well  enough  to  learn  on."  Such  people  forget 
that  a  musical  education  is  more  an  education  of  the  ear 
than  it  is  of  the  fingers,  and  that  every  time  a  child 
touches  one  of  those  old  instruments  which  answers  just 
as  well  to  learn  on,  "so  far  as  the  fingering  is  con- 
cerned," the  ear  becomes  vitiated,  the  musical  sense 
blunted,  and  a  delicate  perception  of  correct  musical 
sounds  is  rendered  impossible. 

MUSIC   IN  THE    GERMAN  SCHOOLS. 

The  Germans  are  among  the  most  musical  people  in 
the  world,  and  while  their  children  were  taught  music 
in  the  public  schools,  it  was  found  that  the  hand  organs 
about  the  streets  were  out  of  tune,  and  tended  to  vitiate 
the  youthful  ear.  Accordingly  an  effort  was  made  to 
put  the  vagrant  instruments  in  tune,  and  keep  them  so; 
but,  failing  to  accomplish  this,  the  government  pro- 
hibited the  playing  of  such  instruments  on  the  streets. 
It  was  thought  necessary  to  preserve  the  delicacy  of  the 
trained  musical  sense  in  the  children,  and  so  everything 
that  could  vitiate  it  was  discarded. 

A  lady  who  possessed  a  piano  which  had  once  been 
good,  and  who  was  really  unaware  of  the  effect  which 
Time's  effacing  fingers  had  wrought  upon  its  ancient 
brilliancy,  asked  a  famous  German  pianist  to  perform 
upon  it,  and  after  he  had  obligingly  done  so,  was  rash 
enough  to  ask  him  what  he  thought  of  the  instrument. 

"  Since  you  press  me  for  an  opinion,"  replied  the  emi- 
nent artist,  "I  will  tell  you  first  that  your  piano  wants 
new  wires;  and,  secondly,  that  the  hammers  want  new 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  MUSIC.  89 

leather.  And  while  you  are  about  it,"  lie  continued, 
gradually  boiling  up,  "with  your  neu  leather  you  had 
better  have  new  wood,  and  when  your  instrument  is  thus 
repaired,  the  best  thing  you  can  do  with  it  will  be  to 
make  it  into  firewood  and  have  it  burned." 

WHAT  FOUR  LADIES   MAKE. 

There  are  four  ladies  at  present  in  the  United  States, 
all  foreigners,  who  are  making  large  sums  of  money. 
They  are  Patti,  Nilsson,  Modjeska,  and  Langtry. 
Madame  Patti  receives  $4,400  a  night.  Of  this  she 
pays  $400  a  night  to  M.  Franchi,  her  agent.  This 
gives  her  $8,000  a  week.  She  sang  in  New  York  three 
times  a  week,  and  her  pay  then  was  $12,000.  She  will, 
during  her  stay  here,  sing  altogether  thirty  times  under 
the  management  of  Mapleson,  for  which  she  will  receive, 
net,  $120,000.  She  will,  therefore,  carry  away  witTi  her 
about  $100,000.  What  Madame  Nilsson  gets  for  her  ser- 
vices amounts,  on  the  average,  to  $4,000  a  week  for  two 
concerts.  On  a  basis  of  fifty  concerts  she  will  make, 
therefore,  about  $100,000,  not  much  less  than  Patti, 
though  the  latter  sings  fewer  times.  Mme.  Modjeska 
receives  $1,000  daily.  But  this  is  a  small  average, 
because  the  receipts  often  exceed  that.  During  her 
recent  engagement  at  Booth's,  at  regular  prices,  she  did 
much  better.  Her  last  week  came  up  to  $11,000  very 
nearly.  Say  $10,000,  and  her  individual  share  would  be 
$3,000.  She  is  to  play  thirty  weeks,  and  on  an  average 
of  $2,000  a  week  she  would  make  $60,000.  Allowing  the 
extra  profit  for  expenses,  that  is  about  the  net  sum  she 
will  make  for  the  season.  Mrs.  Langtry' s  contract  with 


90 


WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


Mr.  Henry  E.  Abbey  is  that  she  shall  receive  thirty -three 
per  cent,  of  the  gross  receipts  each  night.  Mr.  Abbey 
pays  the  company  and  all  other  expenses.  Supposing  a 
business  of  $1,500  a  night — and  thus  far  the  receipts  have 
exceeded  that,  as  Mrs.  Langtry  plays  to  higher  prices 
than  other  dramatic  stars — she  would  be  receiving  $3,500 
a  week.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  four  ladies  will 
carry  with  them  out.  of  the  country  $350,000  by  the  time 
the  season  of  1883  ends. 


PROMINENT  daily  paper,  pub 
lished  in  London,  Eng.,  has  this  to 
say  of  women  clerks  : 

"There  are  many  advantages  in  wo 
men  clerks.  They  are  found  to  be  puno 
tual  and  docile.  Their  good  conduct  and 
decorum  after  office  hours  insure  a  steady 
attendance  not  broken  down  by  *  Derby'  head- 
aches, or  the  drowsiness  that  follows  nocturnal  dis- 
sipation. They  have  not  that  genius  for  getting 
into  debt,  which  is  an  indication  of  superiority  dis- 
played by  their  male  colleagues.  It  is  also  worthy 
of  note,  that  the  sluggishness  of  promotion,  which 
is  one  of  the  difficulties  of  all  official  careers  where 
men  are  concerned,  is  got  rid  of  in  the  case  of  women. 
No  matter  how  closely  they  may  restrict  themselves  to  their 
work  from  ten  to  four,  the  clever,  clear-headed,  vigorous  young 
girls  who  are  government  clerks  are  ready  enough  for  society  in 
the  evenings.  They  enter  it  with  freshness  of  feeling,  because 
they  have  honestly  earned  relaxation;  and  the  fact  that  they 
are  pecuniarily  independent,  enables  them  to  meet  men  frankly 
and  on  equal  terms.  Their  very  success  in  examination  and  in 
office  life,  implies  their  quickness,  brightness,  and  good  health, 


92  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

and   these  are  the  qualifications  that  tell  in  a  sweetheart  and 
wife,  as  well  as  in 

A   POSTOFFICE    CLEBK. 

The  result  is  that  they  get  married  off  with  reasonable  celer- 
ity, and  thus  the  official  field  is  kept  clear  by  the  weeding  out 
of  brides,  who  relinquish  red-tape  for  orange  blossoms,  new  girls 
coming  in  to  take  their  places.  For  those,  however,  who  can 
not  or  will  not  marry,  the  office  duties  provide  a  quiet,  steady 
and  decorous  career.  Most  of  them  live  at  home;  many  help  to 
support  a  relative;  all  have  shown,  by  their  docility  and  steadi- 
ness, that  a  young  woman  is  ready  to  work  hard  for  half  the 
pay  that  will  content  a  young  man." 

There  does  not  seem  to  be  that  fine  and  distinctive 
sense  of  justice  in  the  last  statement  that  all  liberal- 
minded  people  would  like  to  see  exemplified,  in  equal 
pay  for  equal  work;  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the 
young  man  either  did  better  work  or  supported  more 
relatives  on  his  double  amount  of  pay.  In  regard  to  gov- 
ernment lady  clerks  in  this  country  we  have  even  a  more 
nattering  picture.  They  are  represented  as  more  indus- 
trious, more  punctual,  more  painstaking,  more  obedient, 
more  patient  than  the  men,  in  similar  situations.  It  is 
doubtful  if  anywhere  in  the  world  is  assembled  so  large 
a  body  of  women  as  these  employes,  possessed  of  such 
social  virtues,  such  fine  breeding,  and  such  social  accom- 
plishments. Of  course  there  are  a  few  among  them  with 
giddy  heads  or  false  hearts.  Although  there  have  been 
some  pretty  faces  that  have  married  their  owners  to  a 
senator,  a  judge,  a  governor — in  one  instance  to  a  for- 
eign nobleman — no  expectations  of  that  romantic  sort 
are  cherished  by  the  rest.  There  is  a  certain  proportion 


GOVERNMENT  CLEEKS.  93 

who  go  into  the  best  society  and  shine  there;  in  fact, 
they  have  never  left  the  society  in  which  they  were 
reared.  They  change  their  office  dress  after  the  hours  of 
work  are  over  for  a  calling  suit,  and  then  proceed  to  make 
visits,  and  they  attend  such  of  the  evening  entertain- 
ments as  they  please;  being  the  daughters  or  widows  of 
admirals,  senators,  and  other  dignitaries  of  the  past;  the 
daughters  and  wives  of  similar  dignitaries  of  the  present; 
being  perfect  ladies,  they  command  the  treatment  of 
ladies,  and  enjoy  their  social  life.  Among  the  ladies  of 
distinguished  lineage  in  the  Treasury  Department  at 
Washington,  are  Mary  E.  Wilcox,  adopted  daughter  of 
General  Jackson,  and  daughter  of  Donelson,  who  ran 
with  Fillmore  for  vice-president,  and  god-daughter  of 
Van  Buren;  Charlotte  L.  Livingston,  whose  husband 
was  a  grandson  of  the  distinguished  chancellor;  C.  E. 
Morris,  a  granddaughter  of  Robert  Morris;  Sophia 
Walker,  a  daughter  of  Robert  J.  Walker,  Folk's  secre- 
tary of  the  treasury;  Miss  Dade,  a  descendant  of  John 
Randolph,  and  niece  of  Winfield  Scott;  Helen  McClean 
Kimball,  widow  of  General  Kimball,  killed  in  the  Mexi- 
can War;  Sallie  Upton,  daughter  of  Francis  Upton,  of 
Brooklyn;  Mrs.  Granger,  the  widow  of  General  Gordon 
Granger;  Mrs.  Tyndale,  widow  of  the  Hon.  Sharon  Tyn- 
dale,  of  Springfield,  111.,  and  others. 

Of  course  the  opportunity  to  secure  such  positions 
was  a  great  blessing  to  many  widows  and  orphans  of 
gentlemen  who  had  died  in  one  branch  or  another  of  the 
government  service — women  who  had  either  starvation 
or  intolerable  dependency  before  them.  The  salary  of  a 
majority  of  the  clerks  is  nine  hundred  dollars  a  year, 


I 

94  WHAT   CAN  A    WOMAN  DO. 

paid  monthly;  a  very  few  have  one  thousand  dollars,  and 
a  still  smaller  number  enjoy  a  remuneration  of  twelve 
hundred  dollars.  They  go  to  the  rooms  which  the  gov- 
ernment provides  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  remain- 
ing until  four  in  the  afternoon,  and  they  work  constantly 
nearly  all  that  time.  It  is  not  a  position  of  emolument 
without  labor,  by  any  means,  and  any  who  have  imag- 
ined the  office  a  sinecure,  will  please  read  the  following 
detailed  account  of  their  duties  : 

They  bend  all  day  over  their  desks. 

They  copy  letters  from  hour  to  hour,  in  round  hand, 
without  erasure. 

They  compute. 

They  keep  books. 

They  make  clean  records  in  big  ledgers. 

They  register  bonds. 

They  print  and  cut,  and  file  and  sort. 

They  count  with  the  accuracy  and  dexterity  of 
machines,  and  in  a  manner  that  it  is  perfectly  won- 
derful to  observe,  seeing  and  reckoning  at  a  single 
glance,  not  only  the  figures  telling  the  denomination 
of  a  bill,  be  they  one  or  five,  or  twenty  or  a  hundred, 
but  those  also  at  the  same  time  telling  the  date  of  the 
series,  and  those  which  are  to  be  found  in  a  red-line, 
both  under  the  treasury  seal  and  near  the  upper  right 
hand  corner,  thus  keeping  at  once  a  double  tally.  They 
have  great  skill,  too,  in  making  out  the  face  of  money 
that  has  been  injured  by  fire  or  water,  masses  of  charred 
rubbish  that  one  would  never  dream  to  be  anything  but 
embers,  and  that  which  has  been  water- soaked  to  a  ball 
of  pulp,  are  restored  by  their  patient  research  so  that  a 


GOVERNMENT    CLERKS.  95 

good  part  of  the  original  worth  is  made  out  and  redeemed. 
Having  so  little  of  their  own,  there  is  something  pathetic 
in  the  way  in  which  they  handle  money  by  the  million, 
none  of  which  has  ever  been  known  to  stick  to  their 
fingers. 

For  many  years  all  the  writing  and  copying  work  was 
given  out  at  the  department  for  ladies  to  take  to  their 
homes,  and  it  was  paid  for  under  a  tariff  of  ten  cents  for 
every  hundred  words.  This  was  before  the  era  of  female 
clerkships,  when  a  lady  was  supposed  to  lose  caste  by 
doing  anything  in  the  shape  of  public  work.  For  the 
past  twenty  odd  years,  however,  the  ladies  engaged  in 
department  work  have  been  admitted  to  formal  clerk- 
ships, with  stated  salaries. 

The  Treasury,  Postoffice,  Patent  offices,  the  Smith- 
sonian Institute,  and  Pension  Office  all  employ  a  num- 
ber of  ladies,  but  it  is  next  to  impossible  ever  to  find  a 
vacancy,  owing  to  the  fact  that  a  lady  in  office  who 
intends  to  resign — and  this  is  equal  to  the  oft-quoted 
remark,  that  few  die  and  none  resign — knows  immedi- 
ately of  an  acquaintance  or  friend  who  has  capabilities 
for  the  work,  and  who  steps  in  as  she  steps  out.  Women 
without  influence,  political  or  other,  can  not  expect  to 
gain  the  position  simply  because  they  can  perform  the 
duties.  Five  hundred  women  could  do  that.  We  hear 
sad  stories  of  delicate,  high-bred  girls  who  have  lingered 
year  after  year  at  the  capital,  filling  inferior  positions, 
while  waiting — waiting  for  a  seat  in  congressional  halls. 
One  bright  girl  did  get  in  by  perservance  and  pluck,  if 
her  story  is  true.  Here  it  is: 


96  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

HOW   ONE   WOMAN   GOT    INTO   THE  DEPARTMENT. 

One  bright  morning  the  Hon.  John  Sherman  was  sit- 
ting in  his  office  when  suddenly  a  bright-haired,  pretty 
girl  dashed  into  his  presence.  She  was  apparently  six- 
teen, and  had  about  her  an  air  of  business  which  even 
the  cold  gaze  of  the  Ohio  statesman  could  not  transform 
into  maiden  fright  or  flurry.  Deliberately  taking  a  seat 
the  girl  said: 

"Mr.  Sherman,  I  have  come  here  to  get  a  place." 

"  There  are  none  vacant,"  was  the  frigid  reply. 

"  I  know  you  can  give  me  a  place  if  you  want  to,"  persisted 
the  girl,"  and  I  think  I  am  as  much  entitled  to  it  as  anybody. 
My  father  spent  his  life  in  the  United  States  army,  and  when 
he  died  he  left  nothing.  The  responsibility  of  the  family  rests 
on  me,  and  I  think  I  have  as  good  a  claim  as  anyone  on  the 
government." 

"  What  kind  of  place  do  you  want  ?"  asked  Mr,  Sherman,  com- 
pelled to  say  something. 

"I  don't  care  what  it  is,  but  I  must  have  work  at  once." 

Mr/  Sherman  assured  her  that  there  were  dozens  of 
applicants  for  every  one  place,  and  there  was  very  little 
chance. 

She  very  deliberately  told  him  that  such  an  answer 
would  not  do,  and  declared  if  he  would  allow  her  she 
would  come  up  every  day  and  black  his  shoes  for  him  if 
he  couldn'  t  do  better  for  her. 

The  secretary  was  struck  with  her  determination  and 
charmed  by  her  bright  face  and  her  sprightly  manner. 
He  told  her  to  come  back.  In  less  than  a  week  she  had 
a  good  place  in  the  treasury,  which  she  still  holds. 
Every  morning  she  walks  to  the  department  with  tlie 


•MR.  SHERMAN,  I  HAVE  COME  TO  GET  A  PLACE.1 


GOVERNMENT   CLEKKS.  97 

step  of  a  business  woman,  who  is  proud  that  her  delicate 
hands  can  be  the  support  of  others.  She  receives  one 
hundred  dollars  a  month,  and  supports  in  comfort  her 
mother  and  sister.  This  brave  and  successful  young 
woman  is  Miss  May  Macaulay,  formerly  of  Atlanta, 
Georgia.  Her  father  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  18th 
infantry. 

Another  account  of  the  treasury  girl  may  not  be  amiss 
here.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  a  well-known  Washington 
lady,  who  says : 

"  I  am  boarding  in  the  same  house  with  a  young  girl  who  is  a 
clerk  in  one  of  the  departments,  and  as  it  is  new  to  me  to  see  women 
thus  occupied,  I  willingly  accepted  lier  invitation  to  accompany 
her  to  the  Bureau,  where  she  is  employed.  It  looks  strange, 
because  I  am  unaccustomed  to  it,  to  see  a  young  lady  take  her 
hat  and  walk  off  to  her  office  at  nine  o'clock.  This  young  girl 
is  a  Virginian,  an  orphan,  very  nice  and  lady-like,  and  very 
poor.  She  has  quite  an  air  of  business  about  her,  is  perfectly 
self-reliant  and  independent,  and  likes  her  occupation  well. 
Her  office,  where  she  writes  at  a  separate  desk,  is  in  a  large, 
quiet  room,  where  only  two  other  clerks  are  employed,  and 
everything  is  comfortable  and  orderly.  When  we  reached  the 
door  my  companion  walked  in  and  hung  up  her  hat  composedly, 
and  then  sat  down  to  the  work  of  the  day." 

Compared  with  the  sewing  or  teaching,  which  usually 
seems  the  only  resource  for  Southern  girls  who  are 
forced  to  support  themselves,  office  work  or  professional 
duties  present  many  attractions.  This  young  lady's 
employment,  with  its  comfortable  salary,  is  far  prefer- 
able to  the  drudgery  of  teaching  and  the  small  pay, 
which  is  the  lot  of  young  girls  who  are  trying  to  earn  a 


98  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

living.  There  is  nothing  injurious  in  the  occupation  or 
the  companionship  it  brings  to  the  woman  who  is  pure 
and  high-toned  in  character,  seeking  from  preference  a 
home  with  refined  people  who  live  plainly.  She  seems 
like  a  daughter  of  the  house.  This  little  description  of 
her  room  gives  an  insight  into  her  character  and  tastes  : 

"Her  little  room,  which  adjoins  mine,  is  full  of  knick-knacks, 
the  gifts  of  loved  ones  in  better  days,  or  the  work  of  leisure 
hours.  Here  are  the  tiny  clock  and  sewing  machine  which,  with 
her  neat  and  simple  wardrobe,  represents  her  all  of  worldly 
goods.  After  her  office  work  is  over  she  comes  home  cheerful 
and  bright,  brings  her  sewing  into  the  sitting-room  where  the 
family  assemble,  and  whence  I  can  hear  merry  laughter,  as  the 
little  circle  talk  over  the  incidents  and  adventures  of  the  day." 

The  dark  side  to  this  is  the  yellow  envelope  of  dis- 
missal. What  it  means  to  the  one  dismissed  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  the  notice  is  no  longer  deliv- 
ered to  the  department  clerk  at  the  office,  the  fainting 
and  hysterics  which  ensue  upon  the  receipt  of  the  mis- 
sive, causing  much  excitement  and  sympathy,  and  seri- 
ously interfering  with  the  routine  of  business.  The  let- 
ter is  left  at  the  home  of  the  employe,  and  it  gives  no 
reason  for  the  dismissal,  and  there  is  never  the  slightest 
hopes  of  re-ins tatement.  It  often  causes  a  serious  ill- 
ness, which  is  as  nothing  to  the  more  lasting  sickness  of 
the  heart,  at  the  long  prospect  of  enforced  idleness. 
Some  have  been  fortunate  enough,  or  provident  enough, 
to  be  able  to  lay  up  a  little  for  this  rainy  day;  others 
have  friends  to  depend  on.  It  is  hoped  that  in  all  cases 
the  dark  day  ends  with  the  night,  and  "joy  cometh  in 
the  morning." 


1 


ial. 


ISS  Ada  Sweet,  U.  S.  Pension 
Agent,  whose  portrait  will  be 
found  elsewhere,  is  one  of  our 
highest  representative  women 
who  have  solved  the  problematical 
~^*^$  question  of  what  can  a  woman 
do.  Since  she  was  fifteen  years  old, 
Miss  Sweet  has  been  self-supporting,  and 
for  the  past  ten  years  has  filled  one  of  the 
most  responsible  positions  under  our  gov- 
ernment, and  the  only  one  solely  managed 
by  a  woman.  She  is  an  admirable  example 
of  a  business  woman,  since  she  is,  at  the 
same  time,  a  member  of  the  highest  social 
circles,  has  the  manner  and  appearance  of 
a  lady  who  has  never  stepped  outside  of  society  circles, 
and  finds  time  to  be  always  well  and  fashionably  dressed. 
Our  readers  will,  no  doubt,  prefer  to  read  Miss  Sweet's 
own  kindly  response  to  a  request  for  some  particulars  of 
her  life,  which  we  append,  although  it  was  not  intended 
for  publication  in  this  shape.  Following  the  sketch  is  a 
poem  by  this  accomplished  lady,  which  I  have  copied 
from  a  magazine,  without  h^r  knowledge,  but  which  gives 

IB 


100  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

the  domestic  side  of  her  character.  To  her  many  per- 
sonal friends  who  know  the  peculiarly  sad  closing  of  that 
precious  home  life,  it  will  have  an  exceptional  interest, 
while  all  must  admire  its  true  poetic  inspiration.  There 
are  still  precious  flowers  left  in  the  home  garden,  which 
owed  much  of  its  sunlight  and  bloom  to  this  young 
gardener. 

CHICAGO,  December  2,  1882. 
DEAR  MRS.  RAYNE: 

I  give  you,  below,  a  sketch  of  my  life, 
as  a  basis  for  what  you  may  desire  to  say. 

I  am  the  daughter  of  General  B.  J.  Sweet,  and  was  born  at 
Stockbridge,  Wisconsin,  Feb.  23d,  1852.  My  childhood  was 
passed  in  Wisconsin  until  1863,  when,  my  father  being  in  com- 
mand of  the  U.  S.  Post  at  Camp  Douglas,  Chicago,  the  family 
moved  to  Chicago,  remaining  there  until  the  close  of  the  war, 
and  then  taking  up  a  permanent  residence  near  that  city. 

My  father  lost  the  use  of  his  right  arm  by  a  wound  received 
at  the  battle  of  Perryville,  Ky.  I  commenced  to  assist  him  in 
his  office  work — he  was  a  lawyer — when  I  was  fifteen  years  of 
age. 

In  1868  father  was  appointed  U.  S.  Agent  for  paying  pensions 
at  Chicago,  and  I  entered  the  office.  Father  was  anxious  to 
have  me  learn  the  business  thoroughly  in  all  its  branches,  and  I 
commenced  as  a  copyist,  gradually  rising  as  I  learned  the  dif- 
ferent duties  and  occupations  incident  to  the  disbursing  of 
money.  After  two  years  I  took  entire  charge,  under  my 
father's  eye,  of  course,  and  when  he  left  to  take  the  place  of 
Supervisor  of  Internal  Revenue,  in  April,  1871,  I  remained  with 
his  successor,  as  chief  clerk,  until  January  1st,  1872,  when  I 
joined  father  at  Washington,  where  he  had  just  taken  the  place 
of  Deputy  Commissioner  of  Internal  Revenue.  I  acted  as  his 


MISS  ADA  SWEET. 


I 
I 
I 

A  LADY   GOVERNMENT   OFFICIAL.  101 

secretary  until  his  death,  which  took  place  when  he  was  but 
forty-two  years  of  age,  January  1st,  1874. 

I  was  the  eldest  of  four  children,  and  the  effect  of  the  panic, 
and  the  general  depreciation  of  property  xipon  father's  estate, 
soon  made  it  apparent  that  to  me,  mother  and  the  children  must 
look  for  support  and  care. 

In  Washington  we  had  many  most  kind  and  influential  friends, 
among  them  President  Grant,  and  he,  knowing  that  I  had  proved 
myself  fully  competent  to  perform  the  duties  of  Pension  Agent, 
during  the  incumbency  of  my  father  and  his  successor,  promptly 
acted  upon  the  proposition  that  I  should  be  appointed  U.  S. 
Agent  for  paying  pensions  at  Chicago.  The  nomination  was 
made  March  19,  1874,  and  confirmed  by  the  Senate,  without 
reference  to  a  committee. 

Pensions  were  paid  from  the  Chicago  office,  at  that  time,  only 
to  persons  residing  in  a  district  known  as  Northern  Illinois,  the 
State  being  divided  into  four  districts,  with  one  disbursing  oifice 
in  each.  In  May,  1877,  all  these  offices  were  consolidated  at 
Chicago,  and  July  1st  I  commenced  paying  pensions  for  the 
whole  State. 

In  March,  1878,  my  four  years  commission  expired,  and  Presi- 
dent Hayes  re-appointed  me. 

Again  in  March,  1882,  my  commission  was  renewed  by  Presi- 
dent Arthur. 

Twenty-four  thousand  pensioners  receive  their  pension  quar- 
terly from  the  Chicago  Agency,  the  names  on  its  rolls  still  being 
on  the  increase.  The  annual  disbursements  at  present  are  about 
five  million  dollars.  During  the  past  eight  years  I  have  dis- 
bursed twenty-five  million  dollars. 

This  is  the  first  case  in  which  a  woman  has  been  appointed  as 
disbursing  officer  for  the  United  States. 

I  have  managed  the  office  on  a  strictly  business  basis,  in  no 
case  appointing  clerks  for  political  reasons,  or  because  they  were 


102  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

recommended  by  influential  politicians.  I  have  studied  the 
methods  of  our  best  business  men,  and  modeled  my  office  on 
the  plan  of  the  best  business  houses  of  Chicago,  more  than  after 
the  idea  of  an  ordinary  government  office.  Many  of  the  best 
places  are  held  by  women  clerks,  and  never  yet  has  one  failed  to 
meet  all  the  duties  entrusted  to  her,  to  my  entire  satisfaction. 
One  of  the  most  pleasant  features  of  my  business  career,  to  me, 
is  the  help  and  training  I  have  been  enabled  to  extend  to  women 
who  are  honest  and  industrious  bread  winners  for  themselves 
and  others  dependent  upon  them. 

Very  truly  yours, 

ADA  C.  SWEET. 
THE  GARDEN. 

I  lean  against  the  shaking  fence, 
And  look  upon  the  dwelling  whence 

Have  gone  the  hearts  that  made  it  home. 
No  well-beloved  face  looks  out; 
The  vines  no  longer  climb  about 

The  doors,  and  blossom  into  foam. 

Around  the  house  there  is  no  sign 
Of  aught  that  made  it  home  of  mine, 

Well-known,  familiar,  yet  'tis  strange. 
But  in  the  garden  I  can  see 
The  trace  of  loving  care — to  me 

The  flowers  smile,   "  We  do  not  change." 

Three  summers  now  the  sun  and  rain 
Above  those  patient  hands  have  lain 

That  worked  and  planted  flowers  here. 
And  yet  the  red  petunias  stand, 
Unchecked  by  weeds  on  every  hand, 

And  tall  blue  larkspur  shows  no  fear 

One  tiger  lily  rears  her  stalk 
Close  to  the  ruined  gravel  walk, 
And  nods  across  the  grass  to  me. 


A   LADY   GOVERNMENT   OFFICIAL.  103 

White  feverfew  shines  brave  and  fair, 
Lifting  its  face  to  sun  and  air, 
And  mignonette  grows  rank  and  free. 

Yet  Mother,  Mother,  all  of  those 

You  loved  the  best,  your  favorite  rose — 

Your  pets  and  darlings  are  no  more. 
They  could  not  live  but  by  your  side; 
They  flourished  in  your  simple  pride; 

For  you  their  buds  and  blossoms  bore! 

But  in  a  garden  that  you  know, 
Even  yet,  some  flowers  you  planted  grow, 
And  those  you  cherished,  loved  the  best. 
They  do  not  fade  with  passing  years; 
No  whiter  blights,  no  summer  sears 

The  leaves  your  tears  and  prayers  have  blessed ! 
September,  1882.  Ada  G.  Sweet. 


\AZ  enjer) «  ef*  Rr)f  zrprisc. 


"  Art  thou  poor,  jet  has  thou  golden  slumbers, 

O  sweet  content? 
Work  apace,  apace,  apace,  apace, 
Honest  labor  bears  a  lovely  face." 


PLEASANT  story  comes  from  over 
the  seas  of  how  one  Madame  Char- 
lotte Erasmi,  a  German  widow  with 
six  children,  earned  a  competency 
for  herself  and  bnilt  np  a  great 
Business  house  in  the  quaint  town  of 
Lubeck,  some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago.  She 
started  a  tiny  shop  for  the  sale  of  canned 
frnits  and  preserved  meats.  She  canned  the 
fruits,  meats  and  vegetables  herself,  and  they 
were  all  of  superior  quality,  and  presently 
came  into  good  demand.  Madame  Erasmi 
was  a  woman  of  energy  and  intelligence,  with 
business  tact  enough  to  see  upon  which  side  her  bread 
was  jauttered.  Step  by  step  she  enlarged  her  factory 
and  her  sales,  shrewdly  and  carefully,  until  the  tiny 
closet,  which  at  first  held  all  her  earthly  possessions, 

grew  to  fifty  times  its  original  size.     She  educated  her 

tw 


WOMEN   OF   ENTERPRISE.  105 

children,  meanwhile,  in  the  best  schools  in  Europe,  and 
brought  them  up  to  be  a  credit  to  themselves  and  society. 
Her  business  now  included  the  preparation  of  ship's  pro- 
visions, potted  meats,  and  tish  of  all  kinds,  canned  aspar- 
agus and  other  vegetables,  canned  fruits,  jellies,  fruit 
syrups,  extract  of  meat,  and  nearly  a  dozen  different 
canned  soups.  She  has  a  branch  house  in  London,  a 
large  trade  in  New  York,  and  sends  her  goods  all  over 
the  world.  Her  business  card  reads  as  follows: 

CHARLOTTE  ERASMI, 
COURT    PURVEYOR   TO   HIS    MAJESTY 

EMPEROR  WILLIAM  I. 
FACTORY  FOR  CANNED  PROVISIONS. 

Kaiser  Wilhelm  himself  wrote  her  a  letter  of  commen- 
dation, and  she  has  received  prize  medals  and  certificates 
from  Lubeck,  Hamburgh,  Copenhagen,  Rheims,  Berlin, 
and  from  the  World's  Exposition  at  Vienna.  Her  eldest 
son,  now  of  age,  has  taken  his  place  as  partner,  and  two 
other  sons  are  to  be  admitted  to  the  firm  as  soon  as  they 
are  old  enough  and  wise  enough.  Madame  Erasmi,  how- 
ever, although  now  wealthy  herself,  remains  at  the  head 
of  the  house. 

What  can  a  woman  do?  So  much  has  one  woman 
done,  at  any  rate. 

A  PIONEER. 

The  first  respectable  woman  who  dared  to  set  foot  in 
the  streets  of  Leadville  was  Mrs.  Sarah  Ray,  who  took 
in  washing  and  made  a  fortune  of  $1,000,000.  She  dug 
in  the  mines,  scoured  the  plains  as  a  scout,  and  last,  but 


106  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

not  least,  took  in  washing  from  the  Leadville  miners, 
and  to-day  has  a  snug  little  fortune  that  gives  her  an 
income  of  $30,000  a  year.  She  is  now  fifty  years  old, 
weighing  some  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  and  is 
rugged  and  well.  She  has  a  daughter,  a  handsome  and 
lady-like  girl  of  eighteen,  whom  she  is  educating  at  an 
Eastern  school. 

HONOR  TO   WHOM    HONOR  IS   DUE. 

Mrs.  Margaret  Haighey,  of  New  Orleans,  made  a  busi- 
ness of  cheap  restaurants,  where  a  man  could  get  a  cup 
of  coffee  and  a  roll  for  five  cents,  founded  and  supported 
three  orphan  asylums,  and  did  other  good  work  with  the 
means  she  accumulated.  When  she  died  two  governors, 
the  mayor  of  the  city,  and  the  leading  editors  were  her 
pall-bearers,  and  the  archbishop  of  the  diocese  con- 
ducted the  funeral  services,  and  when  the  procession 
passed  the  Stock  Exchange  the  members  stood  with 
uncovered  heads,  and  all  classes  united  to  do  honor  to  a 
noble  woman.  Mrs.  Haighey  never  wore  a  silk  gown  or 
a  pair  of  kid  gloves  in  her  life.  She  lived  in  the  utmost 
simplicity,  and  did  good  with  her  money. 

A   SUCCESSFUL   BUSINESS. 

Mrs.  E.  S.  Chapman,  whose  present  address  is  101 
West  Twenty  Sixth  street,  New  York  City,  has  created 
a  new  and  special  industry  for  women,  on  a  large  scale, 
but  with  a  very  small  beginning.  Mrs.  Chapman's  first 
venture  in  the  line  of  earning  a  livelihood  was  that  of 
making  large  collars  for  children,  out  of  rick-rack,  which 
is  a  lace  made  of  rows  of  white  serpentine  or  feather-edge 


WOMEN   OF   ENTERPRISE.  107 

braid,  crocheted  together  and  shaped  into  collars,  and 
also  in  lace  stitches  and  crochet  stitches,  executed  with 
crochet  needles  and  knitting  cotton. 

The  demand  became  so  great  that  her  own  hands  were 
unable  to  supply  it,  and  she  began  to  employ  women 
and  give  instruction  in  the  art,  which  was  simple  and 
easily  learned.  This  was  five  years  ago.  Now  Mrs. 
Chapman  has  eight  hundred  women  on  her  books,  living 
in  different  parts  of  the  State,  and  in  New  Jersey  and 
Long  Island.  They  are  mostly  married  women,  and  do 
the  work  at  their  homes,  and  as  a  help  toward  a  little 
pin  money,  some  of  the  ladies  go  in  their  own  carriages 
to  get  the  work,  doing  it  as  a  pastime  for  leisure  hours. 
It  is  not,  of  course,  very  remunerative,  but  is  easily 
taken  up  at  odd  times.  The  pecuniary  result  of  ten 
hours'  steady  labor  is  about  one  dollar.  The  articles 
include  lace  covers  for  the  toilet,  collars,  cuffs,  dresses, 
caps,  shams,  curtains,  coverlets,  and  other  things  indefi- 
nitely. Seventy-five  thousand  collars  were  supplied  in 
one  year  to  a  single  wholesale  house  that  takes  all  of 
Mrs.  Chapman's  work. 

WOMEN   AS   DENTISTS. 

There  are  a  number  of  ladies  who  have  learned  the 
profession  of  dentistry,  and  a  few  who  are  engaged  in  a 
successful  practice,  at  the  head  of  which  number  may  be 
reckoned  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Morey,  of  New  York  City,  who 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  it  from  her  husband.  Mrs. 
Morey  has  practiced  in  connection  with  him  for  some 
sixteen  years,  and  is  the  inventor  of  the  skeleton  tooth, 
which  she  devised  for  a  lady  patient  who  had  what  is 


108  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

called  a  pin  tooth — a  tooth  much  smaller  in  size  than  the 
others,  and  detracting  from  their  nniformity  of  appear- 
ance. Mrs.  Morey  left  the  tooth  without  pulling,  as  it 
was  sound,  and  originated  a  hollow  artificial  one,  which 
she  fitted  over  this  tooth,  making  it  uniform  with  the 
others,  on  the  same  principle  that  crown  teeth  are  now 
inserted.  She  believes  that  the  first  principle  of  den- 
tistry is  to  save,  and  not  destroy,  teeth,  and  thus  worked 
out  her  idea.  Mrs.  Morey  is  master  of  the  three  distinct 
branches  of  dentistry  —  the  surgical,  operative,  and 
mechanical.  When  asked  if  she  thought  women  fitted 
for  the  profession  she  replied: 

"  In  my  opinion  they  are  better  fitted  than  men  to  make  good 
dentists.  The  latter  use  too  much  force,  and  often  crush  a  tooth 
or  injure  the  jaw,  in  taking  one  out.  When  I  am  obliged  to 
pull  a  tooth  I  take  it  out  whole.  Men  are,  perhaps,  better 
adapted  for  the  inventive  and  mechanical  parts  than  women.  It 
is  very  injurious  to  delicate  eyes  to  work  with  a  blow-pipe 
before  them,  for  fine  gold  requires  a  high  degree  of  heat. 

lf  Dentistry  is  an  art  that  demands  not  only  constant  practice 
but  constant  study,  for  things  are  daily  occurring  that  require 
some  new  invention.  Out  of  five  hundred  cavities  not  more 
than  two  will  be  alike.  Therefore,  women  who  want  to  become 
dentists  should  possess  inventive  faculty. 

*•  There  is  a  wide  field  in  dentistry  for  women,  and  I  should 
like  to  see  some  philanthropist  found  a  school  in  which  women 
could  study  by  themselves,  though  I  can  not  see  why  they 
should  not  study  in  classes  with  the  other  sex,  just  as  lady  stu- 
dents of  medicine  and  other  sciences  do,  for  dentistry  is  a 
science,  and  one  as  old  as  the  pyramids." 


WOMEN   OF  ENTERPRISE.  109 

In  answer  to  a  question  as  to  what  particular  class  her 
practice  was  confined,  Mrs.  Morey  further  said: 

"  I  have  a  large  practice  among  ladies,  but  my  husband  has 
still  larger,  for  the  reason  that  many  women  object  to  being 
treated  by  one  of  their  own  sex,  saying  that  they  have  no  confi- 
dence in  women;  but  I  think  their  prejudices  would  be  easily 
overcome,  as  it  has  been  in  the  case  of  female  physicians,  if 
ladies  knew  that  practitioners  of  their  own  sex  had  graduated  at 
a  regular  dental  college.  My  husband  prefers  ladies  as  patients, 
while  I  prefer  gentlemen.  I  find  the  former  nervous,  fright- 
ened and  distrustful  of  my  ability,  while  gentlemen  seat  them- 
selves in  the  operating  chair  with  an  appearance  of  the  greatest 
confidence,  undergo  the  operation  without  a  groan  or  a  quiver, 
and  when  it  is  over  they  get  up,  pay  their  money  without  a  mur- 
mur, and  go  away  contented  and  pleased." 

The  work  which  entitles  a  woman  to  be  called  a  den- 
tist is  that  of  filling  teeth  with  gold.  The  merest  tyro 
can  fill  them  with  amalgam.  Every  dentist's  office  has  a 
lady  attendant,  whose  duty  it  is  to  hand  water  for  rins- 
ing the  mouth,  hold  napkins,  replace  instruments,  and 
steady  a  nervous  lady's  head  or  soothe  a  frightened  child 
in  the  operating  chair.  These  can  not  be  even  called 
assistant  operators,  as  in  order  to  be  such  they  would 
have  to  assist  the  principal  in  filling  teeth  and  in  various 
other  operations  of  the  profession.  There  are  probably 
not  more  than  a  dozen  practicing  lady  dentists  in  the 
Union  at  the  present  time.  There  is  no  reason  why 
women  should  not  choose  such  a  profession,  and  it 
would  be  especially  valuable  in  the  department  of  chil- 
dren' s  teeth,  a  branch  of  the  business  that  is  much  neg- 


110  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

lected.     The  science  is  by  no  means  as  difficult  to  learn 
as  that  of  medicine. 

An  interesting  letter  writer  adds  this : 

"  There  are  now  two  skillful  lady  dentists  in  Chicago,  Mrs. 
Mann,  formerly  located  in  St.  Louis,  where  she  was  very  popu- 
lar and  successful,  and  Mrs.  Lawrence,  who  has  a  fine  reputation 
and  a  large  practice.  Both  are  on  State  street,  near  Madison. 
Those  to  whom  the  idea  of  a  lady  dentist  is  new,  often  express 
surprise  and  doubts  of  its  being  a  suitable  feminine  profession. 
To  such,  we  can  say  that  these  ladies  and  others  have  proved 
their  fitness  by  their  work  and  their  right  to  the  tools,  by  show- 
ing how  well  they  can  use  them.  Several  hours  spent  in  the 
dental  chair  of  a  lady  operator  afford  a  fine  opportunity  for 
reflection  and  observation  on  this  new  departure  in  woman's 
work.  There  were  sympathetic,  kindly  words  and  looks,  but, 
none  the  less,  vigorous  blows  on  the  wicked  little  wooden  wedge 
that  sets  one's  nerves  all  quivering. 

"'Don't  be  afraid,'  said  Mrs.  L.;  'my  hand  is  perfectly 
steady.  I  will  not  break  the  tooth.' 

"Rubber  choked  my  utterance,  but  faith  never  failed,  and 
she  worked  on,  filling  the  frail  shell,  building  it  up  to  its  original 
proportions,  and  finishing  it  off  so  carefully,  that  if  I  could  spare 
it,  I  would  like  to  send  it  to  the  next  exposition  as  a  specimen 
of  dental  skill.  Prejudice  discarded,  the  nice,  delicate,  patient, 
careful  work  required  in  modern  dentistry  seems  especially 
adapted  to  the  deft  fingers  of  women,  and  one  advantage  that 
occurs  to  me  as  likely  to  be  gained  by  the  increase  of  women  in 
the  profession,  is  that  children's  teeth  will  be  better  cared  for, 
thus  preventing  much  suffering,  and  promoting  health  and 
beauty." 

THE  FIBST    LADY  DENTIST. 

The    twenty-seventh    annual    commencement    of    the 


WOMEN   OF   ENTERPRISE.  Ill 

Pennsylvania  College  of  Dental  Surgery  was  held  at 
the  Academy  of  Music,  Philadelphia.  The  report  is  as 
follows : 

"  Of  the  fifty-nine  graduates,  five  were  ladies,  all  of  whom 
ranked  among  the  ten  highest  students  of  the  class.  There  are 
five  ladies  already  in  the  senior  class  for  next  year,  besides 
others,  applicants  for  admission.  It  is  considered  that  the  pres- 
ence of  these  ladies  has  been  of  great  advantage  to  the  character 
of  the  class,  as  the  uncouth  element  formerly  obtaining  in  medi- 
cal schools  has  been  entirely  subdued  by  their  presence.  It  is  to 
be  noticed  that  three  of  the  graduating  ladies  are  German. 
Even  a  larger  number  of  this  nationality,  next  year,  will  bD  ,  jp- 
resented  in  this  dental  school. 

"The  first  lady  dentist  ever  graduated  in  this  country  was 
sent  out  from  a  Cincinnati  dental  college,  and  during  the  war 
this  lady  returned  the  largest  income  of  any  dentist  west  of  the 
Mississippi.  In  1867,  two  ladies  were  graduated  at  the  Pennsyl- 
vania College  of  Dental  Surgery,  both  of  whom  returned  to  Ger- 
many for  practice.  Following  these  was  Miss  Ramborger,  of 
this  city,  who  is  a  most  successful  practitioner.  After  her 
graduation,  the  college  shut  its  doors  upon  women  students  for 
eight  or  nine  years.  Since  then  it  has  again  received  them,  and 
fourteen  have  been  graduated  in  the  five  intervening  years." 

Here  is  a  new  business  for  women,  and  one  which  is  in 
constant  demand.  The  results  should  encourage  women 
who  need  occupation  and  income,  and  who  have  mechan- 
ical tastes,  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  dentistry. 

COMMERCIAL    TRAVELERS. 

Perhaps  this  business,  to  a  modest,  retiring  woman,  is 
the  hardest  in  which  she  can  be  called  to  engage,  but  if 
she  has  dear  ones  dependent  on  her,  she  will  not  hesitate 


112  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

at  a  good  offer.  The  best  houses  in  business  send  out 
lady  agents  to  canvass  the  different  cities  and  appoint 
local  agents  to  sell  goods.  It  may  be  tea  or  coffee, 
spices,  gloves,  corsets,  millinery,  yeast  powder,  boots 
and  shoes,  any  line  of  dry  goods,  or  a  patent  boiler; 
but  the  lady  commercial  traveler  will  find  that  she  can 
not  only  travel  and  sell  goods  successfully,  but  retain 
the  respect  of  all  with  whom  she  comes  in  contact,  if  she 
conducts  herself  as  a  lady  and  attends  strictly  to  the 
business  interests  of  the  house  she  represents.  At  least 
a  dozen  of  large  New  York  houses  have  sent  out  respect- 
able, well-tried  female  clerks  to  sell  sample  goods  and 
work  up  a  new  line  of  trade.  The  success  of  the  ladies 
has  been  something  phenomenal.  They  hardly,  in  a 
single  instance,  failed  to  secure  large  orders,  and  they 
did  not,  in  a  single  case,  meet  with  any  discourteous 
treatment  or  rebuffs,  either  from  the  merchants  from 
whom  they  solicited  orders,  or  their  brothers  of  the 
road.  In  the  interests  of  sewing  machines,  pianos, 
crockery- ware,  ready-made  underwear,  and  other  lines, 
women  make  the  best  solicitors. 

TYPE-SETTING. 

This  rather  fascinating  occupation  for  women  must  be 
learned  by  a  regular  apprenticeship  in  a  printing  office, 
and  will  command  pay  just  as  soon  as  the  compositor 
can  set  from  copy  with  no  more  than  the  ordinary 
mistakes  of  type.  The  typo  begins  on  reprint,  the 
first  thing  is  to  learn  the  boxes  in  which  the  type 
is  kept,  and  the  names  of  the  different  fonts  of  type 
will  be  acquired  as  the  apprentice  advances.  Ladies 


WOMEN   OF  ENTERPRISE.  113 

are  found  as  type-setters,  and  occasionally  as  fore- 
women, in  the  composing  rooms,  but  there  is  some  diffi- 
culty in  accustoming  the  men  employed  to  this  innova- 
tion, and  Printers'  Unions  will  not,  as  a  general  thing, 
allow  their  members  to  work  in  the  offices  controlled  by 
them;  however,  in  some  of  the  larger  cities  there  are  ladies 
who  belong  to  the  Union.  Women  are  not  adapted  to  the 
work  on  a  daily  paper,  vrliich  must  all  be  done  at  night; 
but  in  the  offices  of  weekly  papers  they  do  good  service, 
and  they  have  been  employed  on  the  dailies,  the  Chicago 
Times  being  one  of  the  papers  which  for  some  time 
employed  lady  compositors.  They  can  earn,  on  an  aver- 
age, ten  dollars  a  week,  or,  in  technical  language,  can  set 
eight  thousand  ems  per  day.  Many  women  have  set  up  the 
articles  in  their  own  papers,  read  the  proof,  made  up  the 
forms,  and  worked  the  hand-press  on  which  they  were 
printed.  It  is  not  at  all  uncommon  to  find  in  the  office  of  a 
local  country  paper  that  all  the  work  is  done  by  the  wife  of 
the  editor  and  publisher,  with  a  small  boy  for  assistant, 
while  the  husband  is  off  electioneering,  collecting  bills, 
and  doing  outside  business.  It  is  a  profession  that  is 
easily  acquired,  and  no  more  injurious  than  any  other 
species  of  close  confining  work. 

And  right  here  I  would  like  to  call  the  attention  of 
women  to  the  fact  that  they  do  not  unbend  from  the 
burden  of  their  duties  as  men  do.  A  man  locks  up  his 
printing-house  or  counting-house  and  goes  home  to  rest 
and  read  the  papers  or  enjoy  social  recreation  in  any 
form  that  presents  itself.  A  woman  goes  home  to 
encumber  herself  with  petty  cares — sew  a  dress  waist 
together,  mend  old  garments,  baste  ruffles  into  a  cos- 

8 


114 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


tume  for  the  morrow,  or  take  up  some  new  form  of  work 
and  worry.  She  is  not  satisfied  with  doing  a  man's  work 
all  day,  but  she  will  employ  herself  with  a  woman's 
work  all  the  evening,  vainly  imagining  that  she  finds 
rest  in  a  change  of  labor.  It  is  all  a  mis  take.  She 
wants  a  brisk  walk  in  the  open  air— a  pleasant  chat 
with  lively  company — something  that  will  divert  her 
mind  from  work  and  weariness,  as  a  ride  or  a  stroll 
does  her  stronger  brother;  but  she  can  not  sew,  knit,  or 
embroider,  or  do  other  work  until  a  late  hour  every 
night,  when  she  has  worked  nine  hours  of  the  day;  she 
will  break  down  in  health,  and  the  fault  will  be  laid 
ignorantly  at  the  door  of  her  trade  or  profession. 

PROOF  BEADING. 

There  are  very  few  good  proof-readers  even  among 
men,  and  those  who  are  experts  command  a  good  salary. 
Proof-reading  is  taught  in  some  schools  as  a  branch,  of 
education,  but  is  seldom  imparted  with  any  accuracy, 
the  average  scholar  preferring  some  other  study.  A 
good  proof-reader  needs  to  be  well  educated,  a  person  of 
careful  observation  and  fine  intelligence,  with  a  quick 
eye  for  disarranged  letters  and  wrong  type,  as  well  as  a 
perceptive  faculty  that  will  enable  him  or  her  to  substi- 
tute the  proper  word  in  the  place  of  one  that  is  obscure 
or  unintelligible.  The  alphabet  of  proof-reading  must 
be  learned  carefully,  each  office  differing  slightly  in  its 
method  of  using  the  signs,  and  the  proof-reader  must  be 
an  accurate  speller. 


WOMEN   OF   ENTERPRISE.  115 

WOMEN   AS   INVENTORS. 

It  is  said  that  women  are  not  successful  in  inventing. 
Perhaps  history  records  their  failures  rather  than  their 
successes.  The  spherical  shape  of  the  bullet  is  the  result 
of  a  woman' s  experimenting.  Two  young  ladies,  cousins, 
one  living  in  Cincinnati,  the  other  in  Louisville,  put  their 
heads  together  and  invented  an  ironing  pan,  on  which 
they  have  taken  out  a  patent,  and  from  which  they 
expect  to  realize  a  fortune.  From  the  time  of  Adain  and 
Eve  women  have  used  an  old  saucer  turned  bottom  side 
up,  an  old  horseshoe,  an  oyster  can,  and  a  hundred  and 
one  other  contrivances  to  place  the  hot  iron  upon  while 
turning  a  garment  or  when  wishing  to  lay  down  the 
iron  for  a  moment.  But,  as  many  a  housewife  knows 
to  her  sorrow,  ironing-boards  can  not  be  disturbed  with- 
out upsetting  the  iron,  thereby  endangering  the  toes  of 
the  ironer.  These  young  ladies  hit  upon  the  idea  of 
making  an  ironing  pan,  to  be  sunk  into  the  board,  and 
thus  kept  stationary,  being  of  such  a  depth  as  to  hold 
the  iron  in  safety  while  the  ironer  twists  the  board  in 
whatever  direction  desired.  They  received  an  offer  of 
five  thousand  dollars  for  their  invention  as  soon  as  it  was 
perfected  and  the  patent  obtained,  but  they  refused  to 
sell,  and  concluded  an  arrangement  which  gives  them  a 
liberal  profit. 

Mrs.  Loretta  Brownlow,  of  Illinois,  patented  a  simple 
and  convenient  invention  for  crushing  and  straining  fruit 
required  in  making  jellies. 

Catharine  Littlefield  Greene,  widow  of  Gen.  Greene  of 
revolutionary  memory,  invented  the  cotton  gin.  She 
lived  in  Georgia,  and  saw  that  it  took  a  negro  a  full  day 


116  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

f] 

to  separate  the  seed  from  a  ponnd  of  cotton.  Eli  Whit- 
ney, of  Connecticut,  was  then  boarding  with  Mrs.  Greene, 
and  his  ingenuity  was  called  into  play  for  the  construc- 
tion of  a  machine  to  do  the  work.  "The  wooden  teeth 
at  first  tried  not  doing  their  work  well,  Mr.  Whitney 
wished  to  abandon  the  machine  altogether;  but  Mrs. 
Greene,  whose  faith  in  ultimate  success  never  wavered, 
would  not  consent;  she  suggested  the  substitution  of 
wire.  Within  ten  days  from  the  first  conception  of  Mrs. 
Greene's  idea,  a  small  model  was  completed,  so  perfect 
in  its  construction,  that  all  succeeding  gins  have  been 
based  upon  it."  The  invention  enabled  a  single  laborer 
to  clean  300  pounds  of  cotton  in  a  day,  instead  of  a  single 
pound,  and  soon  made  cotton  the  leading  staple  of  the 
South. 

Miss  Louise  McLaughlin,  of  Cincinnati,  invented  a 
method  of  under-glaze  painting  upon  pottery,  and  desir- 
ing that  all  artists  should  share  in  its  benefits,  explained 
her  process  to  every  one  who  asked  her,  and  even  wrote 
a  book  giving  this  information. 

The  Burden  horseshoe  machine,  turning  out  a  com- 
plete shoe  every  three  seconds,  was  a  woman's  inven- 
tion, and,  at  a  renewal  of  the  patent  in  1871,  it  was 
claimed  that  $32,000,000  had  been  saved  to  the  public 
during  the  fourteen  years  of  its  use. 

We  should  hardly  expect  to  find  a  woman's  work  upon 
a  reaping  and  mowing  machine,  but  Mrs.  Ann  Harned 
Manning,  of  Plainfield,  New  Jersey,  in  1817-18  perfected 
a  system  for  the  combined  action  of  teeth  and  cutters, 
which  was  patented  by  her  husband,  William  Henry 
Manning.  She  also  made  other  improvements,  of  the 


WOMEN   OF  ENTERPRISE.  117 

benefit  of  which,  not  having  taken  out  a  patent  for  the 
same,  she  was  robbed  after  her  husband's  death  by  a 
neighbor,  who  procured  a  patent  in  his  own  name. 
Mrs.  Manning  also  invented  a  clover  cleaner  which 
proved  very  profitable  to  her  husband,  who  held  the 
patent.  The  name  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Smith,  also  of  New 
Jersey,  appears  as  patentee  of  a  device  whereby  knives 
can  be  adjusted  upon  a  reaper  or  mower  while  the 
machine  is  in  motion. 

Among  other  inventions  by  women  is  that  of  a  baby 
carriage,  the  patent  for  which  a  San  Francisco  lady  sold 
for  $14,000;  the  paper  pail,  invented  by  a  Chicago  lady; 
the  gimlet-pointed  screw,  which  was  the  idea  of  a  little 
girl;  an  improved  spinning  machine  and  loom;  a  furnace 
for  smelting  ore;  an  improved  wood-sawing  machine;  a 
space-saving  clothes  mangle;  a  chain  elevator;  a  screw- 
crank  for  steamships;  a  fire  escape;  a  device  for  correct 
pen  holding,  for  tise  in  schools;  a  wool  feeder  and 
weigher;  a  self -fastening  button;  a  process  for  burning 
petroleum  to  generate  steam;  a  spark-arrester  for  loco- 
motives; a  danger-signal  for  street  crossings  on  railways; 
a  plan  for  heating  cars;  a  rapid  change  box,  convenient 
for  use  at  railway  stations  and  ferries;  syllable  type, 
with  the  necessary  apparatus  for  their  use;  machine 
for  trimming  pamphlets;  writing  machine;  signal-rocket, 
used  in  the  navy;  deep-sea  telescope,  invented  by  Mrs. 
Mather  and  improved  by  her  daughter,  for  bringing  the 
bottoms  of  ships  into  view  without  raising  them  into  dry- 
dock,  and  for  inspecting  wrecks,  removing  obstructions 
to  navigation  and  making  examinations  for  torpedoes; 


118  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

improvements  in  sewing  machines,  and  many  other 
devices  which  are  in  common  use. 

The  machine  for  making  satchel-bottom  paper  bags, 
which  has  attracted  much  attention  for  its  complicated 
mechanism  and  extraordinary  ingenuity,  is  the  inven- 
tion of  Miss  Maggie  Knight,  who  has  since  invented  a 
machine  for  folding  bags,  and  herself  superintended  the 
erection  of  the  machinery  at  Amherst,  Mass.  A  Hobo- 
ken  lady,  having  had  her  dress  spattered  with  mud  by  a 
clumsy  street  sweeping  machine,  invented  the  Eureka 
street  sweeper. 

|  The  Metropolitan  Elevated  Railroad  Co.,  of  New  York 
City,  paid  Mrs.  Mary  Walton  ten  thousand  dollars  for 
an  invention  which  deadened  the  noise  on  their  lines, 
and  a  royalty  forever.  She  was  fifty  years  old  when  she 
made  the  discovery  of  her  inventive  faculties.  She  is 
a  widow,  and  has  been  accustomed  to  think  and  act  for 
herself.  She  says: 

**  My  father  had  no  sons,  but  believed  in  educating  his  daugh- 
ters. He  spared  no  pains  or  expense,  and  made  great  sacrifices 
to  this  end.  We  had  the  only  piano  in  the  whole  neighborhood, 
for  miles  about  us.  At  that  time  we  lived  not  far  from  Phila- 
delphia. My  father's  brother  once  said  to  him:  '  Why  do  you 
waste  so  much  money  on  your  girls.'  To  which  my  father 
replied:  '  My  boys  all  turned  out  to  be  girls,  and  I  am  going 
to  give  them  so  good  an  education  that  eome  time  they  may 
turn  out  to  be  as  good  as  boys.'  This  is  not  my  first  invention. 
Twenty-eight  years  ago  I  made  what  has  proved  to  be  a  valu- 
able invention.  My  husband  was  delighted  with  it,  and  brought 
one  of  his  friends  into  the  matter  to  consult  with  him.  This 
intimate  and  trusted  friend  appropriated  the  idea  and  reaped 


WOMEN   OF  ENTERPRISE.  119 

the  benefit.  <  This  time  I  determined  there  should  be  no  man  in 
it.  I  heard  that  Edison  was  constantly  going  up  and  down  the 
elevated  railroad,  listening  to  the  noise,  trying  to  find  out  the 
cause  and  the  remedy.  He  was  called  by  the  men  employed  on 
the  road  'The  Wizard,'  as  he  always  carried  a  stick  with  him. 
He  was  listening  on  a  salary  paid  by  the  railroad,  but  had  not 
found  the  something  that  would  stop  the  noise.  I  had  been 
thinking  the  matter  over  and  over,  and  had  about  made  up  my 
mind  what  caused  the  noise.  Once  sure  of  that,  I  thought  1 
knew  what  would  stop  it.  So  one  evening  of  that  summer  I 
took  my  daughter,  and  for  the  first  time  made  a  trip  on  the  ele- 
vated railroad.  We  were  the  only  ladies  on  the  train.  For  my 
purpose  I  wished  to  stand  on  the  rear  platform.  That  was 
against  the  rules.  I  said,  '  Then,  hundreds  of  gentlemen  break 
the  rules,  as  more  stand  outside  on  summer  evenings  than  ride 
inside.'  It  shows  how  much  more  tender  the  company  are  of 
women's  lives  than  of  men's,  and  of  how  much  more  value  they 
consider  women,  that  they  guard  them  so  carefully  However, 
in  spite  of  obstacles,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  night  as  to  what 
caused  the  noise.  I  kept  my  own  counsel,  not  one  of  my  family 
knowing  what  I  was  thinking  about.  I  bought  two  pieces  of 
railroad  iron,  placed  them  on  pieces  of  wood,  raised  them  upon 
two  barrels  in  my  cellar,  and  set  about  experimenting.  When  I 
had  perfected  my  plan  I  bought  two  shingles  and  made  my 
model,  supposing  this  to  be  necessary  before  going  further;  but, 
finding  this  was  not  necessary,  I  destroyed  it.  The  railroad 
company  has  asked  me,  as  a  favor,  to  make  another  model  pre- 
cisely like  the  first  one,  as  they  wish  to  place  it  in  their  office  as 
a  curiosity,  and  I  have  promised  to  do  so.  I  then  procured  my 
patent,  against  the  persistent  and  earnest  advice  of  many  men, 
from  time  to  time.  I  have  been  discouraged  in  all  possible 
ways,  but  I  have  pushed  through,  and  the  railroad  company  has 
paid  me  handsomely." 


WRITER  in  a  prominent  weekly 
journal  says  that  for  the  last  twenty 
years  there  has  been,  in  this  country 
at  least,  a  steady  demand  for  the 
application  of  color  to  photo- 
graphs, and  to-day  thousands  of 
persons,  chiefly  young  women,  are 
devoting  themselves  to  supplying  the  demand, 
with  no  prospect  that  the  market  will  become 
dull.  Thirty  or  more  of  these  workers  are  in 
the  school  of  the  Cooper  Institute,  New  York 
City,  and  the  visitor  who  has  had  the  privi- 
lege of  seeing  them,  will  remember  how  pic- 
turesque they  looked  in  the  midst  of  their  gay 
and  bright  pigments,  cardboards,  and  finished  or  partly 
finished  photographs — one  coloring  a  portrait,  another  a 
landscape,  a  third  an  interior,  a  fourth  a  genre — some  of 
the  works  directly  from  life  or  nature;  others  from  oil 
painting.  They  use  water-colors  exclusively,  and  are 
governed  by  most  of  the  laws  of  the  water-colorists'  art. 
The  technique  of  the  business  is  very  simple,  and  in  two 
steps;  first,  the  application  of  a  wash  or  color;  secondly, 
the  knowledge  of  stippling.  About  one-fifth  of  the 

120 


COLORING   PHOTOGRAPHS.  121 

members  are  earning  ten  or  twelve  dollars  a  week  by 
executing  orders;  that  is  to  say,  they  are  more  than  pay- 
ing their  necessary  expenses  while  acquiring  an  honor- 
able and  remunerative  profession.  After  a  two  years' 
course  of  study  many  of  these  diligent  young  women 
will  be  able  to  earn  more  than  that.  Sometimes  during 
their  first  year  they  succeed  in  earning  as  much.  In 
1865,  just  after  the  war  for  the  Union,  one  of  these  reso- 
lute and  clever  sisters  arrived  in  New  York  City  from 
the  South,  almost  penniless,  with  a  father,  mother,  two 
grown  up  brothers  and  a  grown  up  sister  on  her  hands. 
Having  received  previously  some  little  training  in  the  art 
of  photo-coloring  before  the  war  had  wiped  out  the  for- 
tune of  her  parents,  she  determined  to  help  herself  and 
the  rest  of  the  family,  and  in  a  short  time  obtained  work 
enough  to  provide  for  the  support  of  the  entire  group. 

Each  art  has  its  special  difficulties,  and  those  of  the 
art  of  photo-coloring  usually  lie  first  in  ignorance  of 
drawing,  which  incapacitates  the  artist  from  producing 
form,  and  leaves  her  work  either  painfully  flat  or  dis- 
torted, the  cheeks  in  her  portraits,  the  shoulders,  arms, 
and  busts  as  if  silhouetted,  or  else  misshapen;  secondly, 
in  ignorance  of  coloring,  which  makes  her  tints  either 
dry  or  hard,  and  which  prevents  her  from  successfully 
covering  up  the  troublesome  and  exacting  little  black 
places  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  lips  and  eyes  of  the 
photographic  portrait;  thirdly,  in  ignorance  of 

HOW  TO   SELL   HER  WORK. 

Unlike  some  of  her  sisters  who  pursue  "  high,  art,"  the 
photo-colorist  seems  disinclined   to  convert  her  studio 


122  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

into  a  mere  museum  for  the  exhibition  of  unsalable 
wares.  The  first  two  of  these  difficulties  are  overcome  in 
most  instances  by  perseverance  and  competent  instruc- 
tion. Having  learned  the  technique  of  her  profession,  a 
principal  dogma  of  which  is  not  to  retouch  a  spot  which 
has  once  been  touched  on  the  photographs,  the  photo- 
colorist  is  ready  to  execute  orders  for  colored 
photographs. 

HOW   SHALL   SHE    OBTAIN   ORDERS. 

The  answer  to  this  question  depends  upon  her  necessi- 
ties. Seventeen  years  ago  an  Englishman  who  under- 
stood the  art  of  photo-coloring,  sailed  from  London  with 
five  pounds  in  his  pocket.  Arriving  in  this  country  a 
stranger,  without  friends,  he  proceeded  at  once  in  search 
of  employment.  With  a  specimen  of  his  work  in  his 
hand,  he  called  upon  almost  every  photographer  in 
Broadway,  and  offered  successively  his  services.  No- 
body desired  them.  But  when  the  list  was  all  but 
exhausted,  he  found  the  very  place  he  was  seeking: 
"You  are  the  man  I  want,"  said  the  photographer, 
"my  colorist  is  about  to  leave  me,  and  I  wish  to  fill  his 
place."  Ever  since  that  time  the  artist  has  had  much 
to  do.  He  is  now  one  of  the  leaders  of  his  profession. 
If  a  young  woman  should  ask  him  how  she  could  get 
orders  for  coloring  photographs,  his  reply  would  be : 
The  best  way  that  I  know  of  is  to  visit  the  shops 
of  the  photographer  and  make  known  your  wants. 
If  the  proprietor  can  not  give  regular  work  at  so  much  a 
week — say  ten  or  twelve  dollars — he  may  supply  you 
with  special  work.  For  such  work  the  pay  is  not  high, 


COLORING   PHOTOGRAPHS.  123 

but  it  is  better  than  none  at  all.  You  will  get  probably 
fifty  cents  for  coloring  a  full  length  carte  de  visite,  and 
one  dollar  for  coloring  an  imperial.  If  you  have  had  a 
moderate  amount  of  experience,  you  will  be  likely  to 
color  half  a  dozen  carte  de  visites  or  three  imperials  in  a 
day  of  seven  or  eight  hours,  thus  earning  three  dollars  a 
day.  If  your  visit  brings  you  no  orders  of  any  kind, 
but  rough  words  or  indifference  instead,  keep  a  brave 
heart,  and  try  another  gallery.  If  really  in  need  of 
money  persevere  in  your  round  from  shop  to  shop,  and 
courageously  face  the  inconveniences.  You  at  least  will 
make  yourself  and  your  wares  known,  and  may  some 
time  receive  orders  from  a  proprietor  who,  being  crowded 
with  business,  is  only  too  glad  to  secure  your  prompt  and 
capable  services. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  your  necessities  are  not  imme- 
diate, you  can  color  photographs  at  home  and  show  them 
or  lend  them,  or  give  them  to  your  friends,  taking  care, 
of  course,  that  the  work  shall  be  the  best  you  can  pro- 
duce. You  can  also  explain  to  them,  while  they  are 
examining  these  specimens  of  your  skill,  the  practical 
side  of  the  photo- colorists'  art,  telling  them  how  weak 
even  the  best  plain  photograph  is;  how  it  represents  the 
sitter  in  an  attitude  or  expression  of  constraint  greater 
in  some  instances  than  in  others,  but  always  sufficient  to 
be  disagreeable;  how  it  falsifies  color,  making  a  yellow 
ribbon  look  black  and  a  blue  dress  white,  and  playing 
the  mischief  with  every  texture  into  which  yellow  or 
blue  enters.  You  can  add  something,  if  you  choose, 
about  the  ceaseless  charm  of  color.  Finally,  you  can 
remind  your  listener  that  the  purpose  of  coloring  a  pho- 


124  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

tographic  portrait  is  to  produce  more  nearly  than  does 
the  plain  photograph  the  similitude  of  nature. 

Of  course  it  is  easy  enough  for  a  practitioner  of  "high 
art"  to  lift  up  his  eyes,  hands,  and  voice  in  horror  at 
the  thought  of  coloring  a  photograph,  and  excommuni- 
cate the  abomination  with  anathemas,  accompanied  by 
the  explanation  that  it  deserves  such  treatment  because 
it  is  not  "art."  But  without  entering  into  a  discussion 
with  this  person,  let  us  ask  whether  or  not  it  is  true  that 
high  artists  themselves  also  sometimes  make  a  photo- 
graph the  basis  of  their  work.  Do  they,  or  do  they  not, 
ever  put  on  their  canvas  a  tracing  from  a  photograph, 
and  then  paint  over  that,  producing  an  oil  portrait  of 
the  sitter  whose  photograph  they  have  traced.  More- 
over, is  it,  or  is  it  not  true,  that  Meissonier  himself 
painted  whole  pictures  in  this  way  twenty  years  ago, 
and  disclosed  the  fact  to  professional  photographers  by 
the  very  aspect  of  the  forms  produced,  they  knowing 
that  the  short-focused  camera  of  those  days  used  to  dis- 
tort forms  precisely  as  the  forms  i'n  some  of  Meissonier' s 
earlier  paintings  are  distorted. 

RENEWING  OLD   PORTRAITS. 

In  almost  every  family  there  are  valued  old  portraits 
which,  by  fading,  cracking,  or  more  or  less  falling  to 
pieces,  have  become  well-nigh  useless,  save  for  the  mem- 
ories which  they  inspire.  The  art  of  portraiture  has 
advanced  in  these  later  days-  and  the  triumphs  of  former 
times,  save  those  of  the  great  painters,  sculptors,  or 
draughtsmen,  are  laggards.  By  taking  one  of  those 
ancient  daguerreotypes,  or  other  types,  to  a  solar-print 


COLORING   PHOTOGRAPHS.  125 

shop,  getting  a  reproduction  of  it,  and  coloring  the  pro- 
duction, a  work  can  be  produced  which  will  surely  give 
pleasure  to  the  average  spectator,  and  more  faithfully 
present  the  lineaments  of  the  loved  and  lost.  So  trust- 
worthy is  this  statement,  that  the  success  of  hundreds  of 
canvassers  throughout  the  country  may  be  brought  to 
attest  it.  These  men  travel  from  town  to  town,  and 
from  house  to  house,  showing  a  pretty  specimen  of  a 
colored  photograph,  and  offering  to  execute  a  similar 
one  to  order  for  four  or  five  dollars.  They  obtain  a 
great  many  orders  and  return  to  New  York  (or  some 
other  large  city),  and  set  scores  of  girls,  who  understand 
the  art  of  coloring  photographs,  to  fill  them.  You  can 
visit  any  of  their  establishments  and  see  the  young 
artists  at  their  work,  each  one  painting  exclusively  that 
part  of  a  portrait  in  which  she  most  excels — the  hair,  for 
instance,  the  cheeks,  the  lace  trimming  about  the  neck, 
and  leaving  other  parts  for  other  collaborators,  her  wages 
being  about  ten  or  twelve  dollars  a  week. 

The  artist  who  depends  on  wages,  or  a  salary,  usually 
earns  much  less  money  than  she  who  has  a  sufficiency  of 
private  orders  to  execute,  and  every  clever  girl  who 
understands  the  art  of  photo-coloring  can  conceive  of  at 
least  several  ways  in  which  she  may  get  such  orders. 
Her  first  look  out  should  be  to  make  her  wares  known, 
and  also  to  make  known  the  purposes  they  serve.  The 
popular  ignorance  on  art  matters  is  both  pervasive  and 
dense;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  comparatively 
few  persons  whom  a  little  fresh  aesthetic  information 
does  not  please.  You  may  be  sure  that  your  hearer  will 
be  attentive,  if  you  are  explaining  with  even  moderate 


126  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

lucidity  the  art  of  photo-coloring.  Do  you  not  think 
that  a  father  would  be  glad  if,  when  lamenting  that  he 
had  no  picture  of  the  child  who  lay  dead  in  his  house, 
he  learned  that  from  a  photograph  of  its  dead  face  you 
could  make  a  portrait  vital,  beautiful  and  faithful  ? 

Finally,  it  may  be  hinted  that  smart  girls,  who  obtain 
an  order  for  work  of  a  specially  difficult  and  lucrative 
sort,  often  seek  the  assistance  of  professional  artists  of 
distinction,  known  as  "miniature  painters,"  who,  in 
return  for  a  sum  of  money — three,  five,  ten  or  more  dol- 
lars— will  execute  in  good  style  for  their  youthful  cus- 
tomers the  most  important  part  or  parts  of  the  photo- 
coloring  desired. 

For  many  years  before  photo-coloring  was  known  to 
the  public  as  an  art,  there  was  a  sign  on  the  door  of  a 
photographer's  studio  in  Chicago  which  used  to  elicit 
wonder  and  amusement.  It  said:  "Babies  retouched 
here  at  reasonable  rates." 

WOMEN  AS  PHOTOGRAPHERS. 

There  are  nine  hundred  and  fifty  lady  photographers 
in  the  United  States.  The  requisites  for  this  business  are 
patience  to  continue  steadily  in  one  line,  improving  one 
formula,  a  preliminary  education  in  the  science  of  pho- 
tography, a  knowledge  of  the  chemicals  used,  and  a  few 
hundred  dollars.  It  costs  from  forty  to  seventy-five  dol- 
lars to  build  a  good  skylight.  The  instruments  and 
chemicals  must  then  be  purchased,  and  these  will  range 
in  price  from  one  hundred  to  one  thousand  dollars,  the 
latter  being  the  cost  of  an  outfit  for  a  handsome  gallery, 
with  furnishings,  scenery,  and  all  modern  equipments. 


COLORING  PHOTOGRAPHS.  127 

Once  started,  the  expense  is  in  the  salaries  paid  to  assist- 
ants, and  rent.  The  business  pays  at  the  rate  of  one 
hundred  to  three  hundred  per  cent,  on  the  cost  of  the 
material  used.  Many  ladies  are  their  own  operators;  do 
their  printing,  mounting  and  finishing  entirely  them- 
selves. Others  employ  a  man  who  can  do  the  work, 
while  they  take  care  of  the  rooms  and  attend  to  orders. 
Women  naturally  understand  posing  effects,  colors  in 
dress,  and  all  the  peculiar  phases  of  the  children' s  pic- 
ture business  better  than  men.  The  criticism  of  a  well- 
known  photographer  is  that  they  finish  up  in  too  light 
and  sketchy  a  manner,  are  not  deep  and  bold  in  shading, 
and  do  not  give  the  same  care  and  study  to  the  work 
that  a  man  does.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  that  many 
women  are  engaged  in  the  business,  and  make  good 
pictures,  though  no  particular  one  has  acquired  fame 
for  specimen  work.  The  following  extracts  from  a  let- 
ter written  by  Mrs.  J.  H.  Parsons,  of  Ypsilanti,  Mich., 
who  has  been  for  many  years  established  there  as  a  pho- 
tographer, are  of  interest  in  this  connection.  Mrs.  Par- 
sons writes : 

"For  the  benefit  of  any  sister  seeking  a  place  among  the 
limited  situations  for  our  sex,  I  would  say  that  women  can  suc- 
ceed in  any  department  of  the  photograph  business,  though  I 
should  not  have  chosen  it  as  a  life-work  had  not  circumstances 
pressed  me  into  service. 

"  My  husband  and  myself  were  both  teachers  when  we  were 
married.  He  was  a  teacher  of  a  commercial  school  when  the 
war  broke  out  and  took  so  many  of  the  class  of  young  men  that 
were  beginning  a  business  education  that  he  dropped  his  pro- 
fessorship and  took  up  photography.  I  learned  printing  of  him, 


128  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

and  afterwards,  as  his  health  failed,  I  assisted  in  different  depart- 
ments, and  when  he  finally  died,  leaving  me  with  a  family  of  five 
little  ones,  I  took  his  advice,  and  have  carried  on  the  work  suc- 
cessfully enough  to  support  my  family  ever  since.  I  hope  you 
will  make  it  a  successful  medium  in  giving  encouragement  to 
our  sex,  compelled  by  adverse  circumstances  to  support  them- 
selves, for  all  cannot  be  teachers,  clerks,  or  seamstresses." 

It  is  a  common  circumstance  to  find  the  wife  or  sister 
of  a  male  photographer  employed  in  the  office,  which 
needs,  if  at  all  successful,  a  working  force  of  at  least 
three  persons — the  operator,  office  clerk,  and  general 
manager.  It  often  happens,  however,  that  one  enter- 
prising individual  fills  all  the  departments,  taking  the 
order,  posing  the  sitter,  making  the  negative,  and  print- 
ing the  pictures.  Babies  are  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  but 
they  are  also  a  source  of  emolument  to  the  office.  Some 
photographers  make  a  specialty  of  small  children,  and 
do  very  attractive  work.  If  the  parents  are  pleased  with 
the  first  picture,  they  are  apt  to  have  the  little  one  taken 
frequently. 

HOW  THE  BABY'S  PICTURE  WAS  TAKEN. 


We  must  carry  our  beautiful  baby  to  town 
Some  day  when  the  weather  is  fair,  we  said; 

We  must  dress  him  up  in  his  prettiest  gown, 
And  wave  his  hair  on  the  top  of  his  head. 

For  all  his  cousins,  and  all  his  aunts, 
And  both  his  grandmothers,  proud  and  dear, 

Declare  it  is  shameful,  and  every  way  blameful, 
To  have  no  picture  of  him  this  year. 

We  carried  our  child  to  the  town  one  day, 
The  skies  were  soft  and  the  air  was  cool; 


COLORING  PHOTOGRAPHS. 

We  robed  him  richly  in  fine  array, 
Ribbons  and  lace,  and  Swiss  and  tulle. 

He  looked  like  a  prince  in  the  artist's  chair, 
Sitting  erect,  and  brave  and  grand, 

With  a  big  iud  apple  he  scarce  could  grapple, 
Held  close  in  the  palm  of  one  dimpled  hand. 

"  He  is  taking  ft  now.-'     We  held  our  breath. 

We  quietly  peeped  from  behind  the  screen. 
"  What  a  pose,"  we  whispered;  then,  still  as  death 

Waited,  and  baby  was  all  serene. 

Till  the  critical  moment  when,  behold! 

The  sun  was  catching  that  lovely  look, 
Such  a  terrible  roar,  it  shook  tho  floor, 

And  tlutt  was  the  picture  the  swift  sun  took. 


129 


arrjer)  #  ers  * 


w  00d  *  Hrjeetv 


/ers. 


OMEN  who  engrave  on  wood,  says 
a  writer  in  Harper's  Bazar,  will 
tell  you  that  this  exacting  occu- 
pation tries  them  less  than  sew- 
ing does;   and  if,  after  seeing  them 
bent     over     the     magnifying    glass 


through  which  they  follow  the  movement  of 
their  tools  along  the  surface  of  the  boxwood,  you 
ask  if  their  eyes  do  not  trouble  them;  they  will 
smile  and  say  that  the  exercise  strengthens  the 
optic  nerve.  Seven  or  eight  hours  a  day  they 
will  work  without  excessive  fatigue,  and  then 
some  of  the  most  sensible  among  them  will  put 
themselves  through  a  course  of  calisthenics  and 
resume  business  in  the  morning  fresh  as  daisies.  It  is 
only  a  popular  fallacy,  they  say,  that  the  practice  of  the 
art  of  wood  engraving  is  particularly  trying  to  body  and 
mind. 

Those  women,  like  their  brothers  of  the  same  profession, 
belong  to  two  classes— those  to  whom  wood  engraving  is 
an  industrial  art,  and  those  to  whom  it  is  a  fine  art 
The  lowest  order  of  engraving  done  by  the  former  is 
transfer  work,  in  which  their  duty  is  to  make  a  fac- 


130 


WOMEN  AS    WOOD   ENGRAVERS.  131 

simile  of  an  engraving.  Take  a  picture,  for  example, 
from  a  newspaper,  soak  it  in  an  alkali  solution,  lay  a 
block  of  boxwood  upon  it,  put  the  whole  under  a  press, 
and  when  it  comes  out  there  is  stamped  upon  the  block 
a  copy  of  the  picture.  All  that  the  engraver  has  to  do 
is  to  cut  out  the  lines  one  by  one  as  they  lie  before  her. 
A  few  weeks  practice  is  sufficient  to  qualify  her  for  such 
a  task  as  this,  and  many  women  and  men  are  so  occu- 
pied to-day 

But  the  function  of  the  art  engraver  is  different,  and 
the  highest  exercise  of  that  function  consists  in  repro- 
ducing upon  a  block  of  wood  the  effects  of  a  masterly 
oil  painting.  Here  it  is  not  a  fac-simile  reproduction 
that  is  possible.  Every  line  that  she  cuts  must  be  an 
invention  of  her  own  to  express  the  desired  result.  In 
the  former  case  the  lines  are  ready  made,  traced  out  for 
her  in  advance;  in  the  latter  case  she  begins  with  no 
lines  at  all,  the  surface  of  the  block  containing  only  a 
photograph  of  the  oil  painting,  and  requiring  her  to 
choose  the  kind  of  line  and  the  number  of  lines  requi- 
site to  the  proposed  reproduction.  Moreover,  so  far- 
reaching,  varied,  and  remorseless  are  the  demands  made 
upon  the  artistic  wood  engraver  of  the  present  day,  that 
she  finds  it  indispensable  to  become  possessed  of  the  art 
of  drawing  and  painting;  or,  at  least,  a  fair  knowledge 
of  such,  if  she  is  to  do  the  best  work  and  win  the  best 
prices.  She  can  not  cut  the  necessary  outlines  unless 
she  is  a  draughtsman.  She  can  not  cut  the  necessary 
tones  or  tints  unless  she  is  a  painter.  She  must  possess 
a  practical  acquaintance  with  the  whole  business  of  lay- 
ing on  paint,  if  she  is  to  give  to  her  wood-cut  the  feel- 


132  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

ing  of  an  oil  painting.  The  best  men  engravers  in  the 
United  States — that  is  to  say,  the  best  in  the  world — 
have  recently  found  this  out,  and  are  acting  upon  it. 
And  the  same  is  true  of  the  three  women  engravers  who 
alone  deserve  to  rank  with  them.  And  the  fact  that 
there  are  but  three  of  them  shows,  not  that  women 
engravers  are  not  the  peer  of  men  engravers,  but  that 
they  are  not  so  many,  nor  had  so  long  an  experience. 
The  profession  of  artistic  wood  engraving  itself,  as  the 
term  is  now  understood,  is  scarcely  more  than  five  years 
old;  and  it  is  scarcely  three  years  since  the  foremost  of 
the  wood  engravers  have  acted  up  to  their  conviction, 
that  a  knowledge  of  drawing  and  painting  is  a  prerequi- 
site to  the  successful  reproduction  of  an  oil  painting. 

It  is  the  acquisition  of  this  preliminary  knowledge, 
very  much  more  than  the  acquisition  of  the  technique  of 
her  profession,  that  demands  of  a  woman  who  aspires  to 
become  an  artist  engraver  a  long  apprenticeship. 

The  most  successful  of  the  three  women  engravers  who 
have  fought  their  way  into  the  front  ranks  of  the  men 
engravers,  has  taken  eight  years  in  accomplishing  this 
feat,  and  she  is  still  on  the  march  forward.  But  already 
she  is  offered  more  orders  than  she  can  execute,  and 
some  of  her  best  work  has  paid  her  at  the  rate  of  sixty 
dollars  a  week.  It  is  very  beautiful  work,  indeed,  with 
no  trace  of  the  so-called  feminine  weakness  and  inde- 
cision. The  execution  is  as  steady  and  self-contained  as 
was  the  intelligent  purpose  that  inspired  it. 

TERM   OF  APPRENTICESHIP. 

But  eight  years  is  a  long  time  you  will  say — disheart- 


WOMEN  AS  WOOD  ENGRAVERS.  133 

ening  long.  Let  us  consider  the  matter.  Here  is  a  boy 
who,  at  sixteen,  leaves  school  to  become  a  doctor  or  a 
lawyer.  At  twenty  he  is  just  out  of  college,  three  years 
later  he  has  just  taken  his  degree,  and  one  year  later 
still,  how  often  do  we  find  him  in  a  position  to  earn  two, 
three,  or  four  thousand  dollars  per  annum  ?  Yet  he  has 
spent  eight  years,  and  we  will  not  say  how  many  thou- 
sand dollars.  Look  now  at  his  sister,  desirous  of  acquir- 
ing a  not  less  honorable  profession.  It  is  entirely  prac- 
ticable for  her  to  leave  school  in  her  twelfth  year,  begin 
the  study  of  wood  engraving,  and  at  twenty  years  of  age 
become  the  possessor  of  a  profession  which  will  hand- 
somely remunerate  her  as  long  as  she  chooses  to  prac- 
tice it. 

In  one  of  the  classes  of  the  Cooper  Institute,  New 
York  City,  are  two  clever  girls  who,  in  the  second  year 
of  their  training,  made  six  hundred  dollars  each  by  exe- 
cuting orders  for  publishers.  Last  summer,  in  the  same 
place,  twelve  pupils  earned  twelve  hundred  dollars  in 
the  same  way — a  sum  more  than  sufficient  to  meet  their 
necessary  expenses,  amounting,  as  it  did,  to  an  average 
income  of  eight  dollars  and  fifty  cents  a  week  apiece, 
when  the  price  of  comfortable  board  and  lodging  need 
not  have  been  more  than  five  dollars  a  week. 

A  teacher  of  a  class  of  woman  engravers  is  asked  what 
he  thinks  of  engraving  as  a  field  for  woman's  genius,  and 
in  his  answer  says  :  "A  woman's  sense  of  touch  is  equal 
to  a  man's,  her  sight  is  equal  to  a  man's,  her  capacity  for 
adapting  means  to  ends  is  equal  to  a  man's,  and  her  for- 
titude is  greater.  As  for  her  physique,  it  is  fully  equal 
to  the  demands  made  upon  it,  and  a  clever  woman  is  a 


134  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

born  artist.  Her  only  inferiority  to  her  masculine  rivals 
lies  in  her  less  degree  of  smartness  in  sharpening  her 
wood-cutting  tools;  but  she  can  get  her  brothers  and 
bachelor  cousins  to  do  that  for  her;  and  when  she  lias 
fitted  herself  for  the  work  of  an  artist  engraver,  she  will 
make  more  money  in  a  week  than  some  of  her  sisters 
who  practice  'high  art'  are  making  in  a  year." 

The  teacher  might  have  said  that  a  woman's  sense  of 
touch  is  superior  to  a  man's.  In  the  Elgin  watch  fac- 
tories the  most  delicate  and  difficult  parts  of  the  line 
work  is  done  by  young  women  whose  perception  of 
touch  is  so  exquisitely  nice  that  the  finest  hair  held  in 
their  sensitive  finger  ends  seems  to  be  of  the  dimensions 
of  a  whip  cord. 

MRS.    GENERAL   SHERIDAN. 

Before  Irene  Rucker,  the  daughter  of  Col.  Rucker  of 
the  U.  S.  A.,  was  married  to  General  Sheridan,  she  was 
accustomed  to  engrave  blocks  of  wood  for  a  wood  engrav- 
ing firm  of  the  City  of  Chicago,  and  many  a  piece  of 
work  was  sent  out  from  that  establishment,  which  was 
supposed  to  be  the  work  of  apprentices  or  workmen, 
which  was  really  done  by  the  lady  who  is  now  Mrs. 
Sheridan,  who  worked  industriously  and  was  paid  a 
handsome  sum  weekly  by  the  engraver,  who,  upon  hear- 
ing of  her  intended  marriage,  exclaimed:  "There!  its 
just  like  a  woman  to  go  and  ruin  her  prospects,  just 
when  I  really  needed  her  work,  too!" 

A  celebrated  artist  engraver  of  New  York  City,  says 
that  he  has  had  fifty  women  pupils,  and  they  are  all 
doing  splendidly. 


WOMEN  AS   WOOD   ENGRAVERS.  135 

MUSICAL   WOOD   ENGRAVING. 

It  is  related  of  the  best  lady  engravers,  that  they  not 
only  call  on  painting  and  sculpture  to  assist  them  in 
their  career  of  wood  engraving,  but  they  demand  the 
help  of  music,  and  attend  concerts  and  oratorios,  at 
which  the  divine  strains  inspire  them  with  melodious 
tones  which  they  cut  into  the  wood  the  next  day. 

WOMEN   IN   ART. 

Moncure  D.  Con  way  writes  from  London  that  Mr.  Rus- 
kin  has  been  praising  the  work  of  Mrs.  Lakey,  of  Chi- 
cago. This  lady  has  exhibited  a  half-dozen  pictures  in 
London,  which  might  well  inspire  any  one  who  has  eyes 
with  high  hope  for  the  future  of  American  art.  The 
largest  of  these  pictures  represents  the  lord  of  a  small 
herd,  a  superb  bull,  haughty  and  dignified,  with  cows  of 
various  color  around  him.  They  are  wading  in  a  placid 
pond,  with  a  fine  landscape  beyond  them  and  a  warm 
sky  over  them.  The  same  writer  says  there  is  an  Ameri- 
can lady  here,  Mrs.  Merritt  (formerly  Miss  Lea,  of  Phil- 
adelphia), who  recently  painted  a  superb  Artemis,  which 
I  believe  to  be  the  best  flesh  any  American  has  painted 
over  here. 

Except  Anglica  Kauffmann,  Mary  Moser  was  the  only 
lady  who  has  ever  been  a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy. 
Her  father,  George  Moser,  was  one  of  the  original  found- 
ers, and  during  his  life  its  keeper.  She  was  greatly 
admired  by  Queen  Charlotte,  and  decorated  a  room  at 
Frogmore  for  $4,500.  She  was  married  to  Hugh  Lloyd, 
lived  in  Fitzroy  Square,  and  was  buried  at  Kensington. 
She  was  celebrated  as  a  flower  and  historical  painter. 


HOW   SKILLED   LABOR   REMUNERATES   WOMEN. 

T  the  headquarters  ,of  the  Western 
Union  Telegraph  Company,  on  the 
northwest  corner  of  Dey  street  and 
Broadway,    New   York   City,    one 
hundred  and  twenty  young  women 
are  employed  as  operators,  and  in 
the  branch  offices  of  the  company 
throughout  the  country  hundreds  of  others 
find  an  opportunity  to  earn  a  living.    Many 
private    offices,   too,    are    served   in  similar 
fashion. 

The  supply  of  such  operators  at  present  is 
much  in  excess  of  the  demand.  Of  the  fifty 
pupils  who  last  year  graduated  from  the 
Cooper  Union  Free  School  of  Telegraphy  for  Women, 
only  about  twelve  have  thus  far  obtained  situations. 
The  central  office  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Com- 
pany receives  constantly  more  applications  for  positions 
than  it  can  fill,  and  is  itself  educating  young  women  for 
such  work,  although  conducting  no  regular  school.  The 
girls  who  act  as  messengers  in  the  vast  operating  room 


THE   PROFESSION   OF  TELEGRAPHY.  137 

on  one  of  the  upper  floors  are  continually  picking  up  pro- 
fessional information,  and  it  is  a  favorite  practice  for  any 
one  of  them  to  do  a  companion's  work  as  well  as  her  own 
a  part  of  the  day,  thus  leaving  her  comrade  free  to  prac- 
tice herself  in  the  use  of  the  telegraphic  instruments. 
These  messengers  receive  from  fifteen  to  twenty-five  dol- 
lars a  month,  and  when  they  have  become  skilled  oper- 
ators, from  thirty  to  sixty-five  dollars  a  month,  the  aver- 
age salary  of  the  skilled  feminine  operator  being  forty 
dollars  monthly.  The  highest  salary  of  the  male  opera- 
tors is  one  hundred  and  ten  dollars  a  month,  and  their 
average  salary  sixty  dollars. 

Why  this  difference  ?  Chiefly  because  a  man's  endur- 
ance is  greater  than  a  woman's,  and  because  the  men  are 
liable  to  be  called  upon  by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  The 
best  of  the  male  operators  will  receive  and  transcribe  a 
telegraphic  message  of  fifteen  hundred  words  in  an  hour; 
will  transcribe  it  so  legibly  and  carefully  that  it  may  be 
handed  to  the  compositors  of  a  newspaper  in  the  shape 
in  which  it  has  left  his  hands.  When  the  annual  Presi- 
dent's Message  is  in  progress  of  being  telegraphed  from 
Washington  to  New  York  City,  this  dexterous  feat  of 
receiving  and  transcribing  is  by  no  means  a  rare  one. 
But  telegraph  superintendents  say  that  they  do  not  call 
upon  women  to  perform  it.  and  do  not  expect  such  a 
service  of  them.  "Considerable  nerve"  is  required  to 
execute  this  task — more  "nerve "  than  a  woman  is  sup- 
posed to  have  in  reserve  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night. 
Comparatively  few  men,  indeed,  can  do  it. 

In  another  respect  also,  the  women  operators  have  been 
found  inferior  to  those  of  the  other  sex — they  are  oftener 


138  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

absent  from  their  duties.  When  speaking  of  book-keep- 
ers I  had  occasion  to  quote  some  testimony  of  another 
sort:  "Our  women  book-keepers,"  said  a  publisher, 
"are  detained  from  their  duties  by  sickness  or  other 
cause  no  oftener  than  our  men  book-keepers."  But  of 
the  one  hundred  and  twenty  women  operators  at  the 
central  office  of  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Company 
about  one-twelfth  are  expected  to  be  absent  daily,  and 
arrangements  are  made  for  supplying  their  places.  So 
large  a  proportion  may  not  fail  to  put  in  an  appearance 
to-morrow,  but  if  it  does  fail,  the  vacant  chairs  will  be 
filled  without  inconvenience  to  the  company.  Experi- 
ence has  shown  that  the  deficit  is  liable  to  occur,  and 
that  the  supply  for  it  must  be  in  readiness.  It  is  not 
entirely  clear  why  this  discrepancy  between  the  book- 
keepers and  the  telegraph  operators  should  exist,  but 
the  labors  of  the  latter  are  probably  more  exhaustive, 
and  their  surroundings  less  favorable  from  a  sanitary 
point  of  view. 

In  one  particular,  however,  the  women  operators  are 
more  satisfactory  than  their  male  rivals:  they  are  more 
punctual,  less  frequently  late  in  the  morning,  for  the 
reason,  it  is  said,  that  their  method  of  spending  their 
evenings  is  usually  more  wholesome  than  that  of  their 
brothers.  They  work  about  nine  hours  a  day,  and  when 
intending  to  begin  a  day's  work  are  promptly  on  hand  at 
the  hour  appointed.  Furthermore,  their  employers  (I 
am  speaking  particularly  of  the  officers  of  the  Western 
Union  Company)  are  favorably  disposed  to  the  practice 
of  using  women's  services  in  telegraphy,  referring  in 
respectful  terms  to  the  results  of  experience  in  this 


THE   PROFESSION   OF  TELEGRAPHY.  139 

direction,  and  frankly  expressing  the  opinion  that 
women  make  good  operators.  From  business  motives 
these  business  men  are  ready  to  avail  themselves  of 
woman's  skilled  work  in  telegraphy.  Sentimental  con- 
siderations, philanthropic  or  otherwise,  do  not  enter  into 
their  summing  up  of  the  case.  Speaking  for  themselves, 
and  in  the  light  of  an  extended  observation,  they  approve 
of  the  employment  of  women  operators;  and  I  desire  to 
invite  especial  attention  to  this  fact,  because  in  the  series 
of  articles  now  in  hand  I  propose  to  treat  of  the  subject 
of  the  remunerative  aspect  of  skilled  work  for  women 
entirely  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  business  man,  and 
never  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  theorist. 

For  the  women  themselves  the  practice  of  telegraphy 
has  certain  simple  and  definite  attractions.  It  does  not 
soil  their  dresses;  it  does  not  keep  them  in  a  standing 
posture;  it  does  not,  they  say,  compromise  them  socially. 
A  telegraph  operator,  they  declare,  has  a  social  position 
not  inferior  to  that  of  a  teacher  or  governess.  Some 
kinds  of  skilled  work,  they  insist,  are  positively  objec- 
tionable: "In  a  factory  one's  clothes  are  misused;  in  a 
store  one  can  never  sit  down;  in  the  kitchen  of  a  private 
house  one  is  only  a  servant,  even  though  a  chef,"  and 
to  regard  these  objections  as  merely  sentimental  and 
unworthy  of  serious  consideration  would,  they  claim, 
be  a  mistake.  At  any  rate,  the  pursuit  of  telegraphy  is 
free  from  these  inconveniences.  Moreover,  the  young 
women  operators  at  the  Western  Union  Company's  head- 
quarters are  treated  by  their  superintendent — a  young 
woman  very  proficient  in  her  profession— with  sedulous 
courtesy.  She  addresses  them,  not  familiarly  by  their 


140  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Christian  names,  but  by  their  surnames,  with  the  prefix 
"Miss,"  and  she  insists  upon  their  addressing  one 
another  in  the  same  considerate  fashion,  except,  of 
course,  when  one  of  them  is  speaking  to  an  intimate 
friend.  She  does  not  scold  them,  and  as  for  cases  of 
insubordination  on  their  part,  these  are  of  the  rarest 
occurrence — say  only  two  or  three  in  half  a  dozen  years. 
Still  further,  the  work  is  not  continuous;  during  work- 
ing hours  there  are  many  resting  times.  When  a  mes- 
sage has  been  dispatched  or  received,  the  operator  may, 
and  often  does,  take  up  her  knitting,  crocheting,  or  sew- 
ing, passing  pleasantly  the  interval  until  the  arrival  of 
the  next  message.  Reading  is  forbidden,  because  it  is 
supposed  to  absorb  the  attention  to  a  greater  extent  than 
either  of  the  other  diversions;  but  conversation  in  a  low 
tone  is  encouraged.  Among  the  one  hundred  and  twenty 
faces  the  sunny  and  healthful  ones  have  an  immense 
majority. 

To  offset  this  credit  column  several  entries  are  to  be 
made  on  the  debit  side  of  the  account.  In  the  first 
place,  there  is  the  disease  known  as  telegraph  cramp, 
the  diagnosis  of  which  has  not  yet  been  thoroughly 
ascertained  by  the  physicians.  An  operator  stretches 
out  her  hand  to  press  her  finger  upon  the  button  of  the 
instrument,  and  suddenly  her  arm  refuses  to  obey  her 
will,  and  lies  numb  on  the  desk  beside  her.  If  the  ten- 
dons of  her  wrist  had  been  cut  through,  her  manual 
helplessness  would  not  be  greater.  The  strongest  volun- 
tary force  is  too  feeble  to  make  itself  felt  at  the  ends  of 
the  fingers.  The  operator  simply  can  not  do  her  work. 
Seven  or  eight  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  young 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  TELEGRAPHY.  141 

women  are  subject  to  periodic  attacks  of  this  disease,  and 
not  one  of  the  others  knows  how  soon  she  herself  may  be 
seized  with  it.  There  is  no  remedy  but  rest  from  tele- 
graphing, and  exercise  in  the  open  air.  In  the  next 
place,  in  order  to  become  a  first-class  operator,  four  or 
five  years  of  resolute  practice  are  necessary,  even  when 
one  has  what  is  known  as  "a  good  ear."  The  course  of 
seven  or  eight  months'  training  in  the  Cooper  Institute, 
or  any  other  school,  is  only  preliminary;  every  graduate, 
no  matter  how  fervidly  expressed  in  her  diploma  is  the 
story  of  her  accomplishments,  must  pursue  the  practice 
of  her  profession  for  at  least  four  years  before  attaining 
the  rank  and  emoluments  of  a  first-class  operator.  Here 
is  a  young  woman,  say  eighteen  years  old,  in  the  second 
year  of  her  course.  Her  pay,  we  will  say,  is  as  yet  only 
thirty-five  dollars  a  month,  and  if  she  depends  entirely 
upon  her  earnings  for  support,  she  is  likely  neither  to 
save  a  cent  nor  to  waste  a  cent.  Her  board  and  room 
will  cost  her  probably  at  least  six  dollars  a  week,  or,  if 
she  has  a  room-mate,  possibly  five  dollars;  her  luncheons, 
her  car  fares,  her  washing,  half  as  much  more,  without  any 
extravagance  on  her  part;  her  office  dress,  even  if  she  make 
it  herself,  will  take  eight  dollars  out  of  her  pocket-book; 
her  bills  for  other  clothes,  for  shoes,  for  hats — well,  it  is 
easy  enough  for  her  to  expend  ten  dollars  every  week  in 
the  year,  and  her  salary  is  not  nine  dollars.  Next  year, 
perhaps,  her  salary  will  be  raised  to  ten;  but  no  matter 
how  proficient  she  may  become,  it  is  not  likely  to  be  more 
than  fifteen  dollars  a  week.  Several  years  ago  the  earn- 
ings of  both  men  and  women  operators  of  the  first  class 
were  greater  than  they  are  now,  the  former  receiving  fif- 


I 

142  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

I 

<  teen  hundred  dollars  a  year  instead  of  the  present  thir- 

teen hundred  and  twenty  dollars,  and  the  latter  nine 
hundred  dollars  instead  of  the  present  seven  hundred 
and  eighty,  although  at  that  time  the  cost  of  living  was 
higher,  and  the  number  of  working-hours  (for  the  men) 
greater. 

Another  drawback  to  the  practice  of  telegraphy  as  a 
profession  is  the  constant  liability  of  the  operator  at  the 
other  end  of  the  line  to  quarrel  with  you  when  you  can 
not  understand  his  or  her  message;  and  when  he  or  she 
is  surly  of  disposition,  and  captious  of  soul,  the  patience 
of  the  operator  at  this  end  of  the  line  is  sorely  tried,  and 
often  wrought  into  an  inexplicable  tangle.  Further- 
more, unless  one  keeps  in  continuous  practice,  her  facil- 
ity in  sending  or  receiving  messages  becomes  less  very 
rapidly.  It  is  practice  that  not  only  makes  perfect,  but 
keeps  perfect.  The  most  enthusiastic  learner  tries  to 
procure  a  small  telegraphic  instrument  with  a  short  cir- 
cuit of  wire — no  matter  how  short  if  only  continuous — 
and  set  it  up  in  her  room  at  home.  The  entire  appar- 
atus need  cost  only  three  dollars  and  seventy  cents;  and 
if,  while  waiting  for  a  situation,  or  while  temporarily 
engaged  in  other  pursuits,  she  sets  apart  some  time  daily 
for  exercising  her  fingers  upon  it,  the  best  telegraph 
operators  in  the  world  would  be  the  last  to  dispute  the 
wisdom  of  her  course. 

In  the  brokers'  offices  on  Wall  street,  and  thereabouts, 
the  hours  of  service  are  shorter,  and  the  remuneration 
often  greater,  than  in  the  Western  Union  offices.  Most 
of  the  work  is  done  from  ten  to  half-past  three  o'  clock, 
and  very  often  free  luncheon  is  provided,  which  the 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   TELEGRAPHY. 


143 


young  women  operators  estimate  us  equivalent  to  a 
bonus  of  ten  dollars  a  month.  The  requirements  of  the 
situation  are,  to  be  sure,  more  exacting  than  those  of 
general  business,  and  mistakes  are  usually  of  more  seri- 
ous import.  In  branch  offices  in  New  York  City  and 
the  country  the  average  pay  is  thirty-five  dollars  a 
month,  and  the  services  of  the  women  who  receive  it 
are  much  more  highly  valued  by  the  Western  Union 
Telegraph  Company  than  are  the  services  of  the  men 
whose  salary  is  the  same.  One  young  woman  who  acts 
as  manager  and  operator  in  one  of  the  city  offices  receives 
sixty  dollars  a  month,  and  is  considered  to  exhibit  busi- 
ness qualities  which  few  men  possess. 


TCI  If. 


T  is  doubtful  if  there  is  any  work 
more  especially  suited  to  the  taste 
and  capacity  of  a  bright,  energetic 
woman,  with  a  good  fund  of  com- 
mon sense  about  her,  than  the  sale 
of  subscription  books  throughout 
the  country.  There  is  just  enough  variety 
about  the  business  to  present  it  from  becom- 
ing monotonous,  and  it  pays  well  if  the  book 
for  which  the  agent  is  canvassing  has  suffi- 
cient merit  to  recommend  it  to  the  public,  and 
I  would  advise  ladies  to  be  sure  they  are  right 
in  this  particular  before  they  go  ahead.  The 
best  books  published  now — that  is,  the  most 
valuable  to  have  in  the  family  —  are  sold 
entirely  by  subscription,  and  much  pains  is  taken  in 
selecting  good  canvassers  who  will  confer  honor  on  the 
business,  as  well  as  solicit  numerous  orders.  It  is  by  no 
means  necessary  that  the  lady  book  agent  should  go  out 
on  a  canvassing  tour — as  suggested  in  a  recent  work  on 
the  subject — armed  with  a  revolver,  and  bearing  a  ficti- 
tious name.  There  is  nothing  in  the  work  to  be  ashamed 
of.  On  the  contrary,  the  lady  agent  will  find  in  the  same 


144 


LADY   BOOK   CANVASSERS. 


145 


field  of  labor  the  wives  and  widows  of  lawyers,  doctors, 
statesmen,  and  army  officers — women  who  have  been  well 
educated  and  reared  in  a  position  of  luxury,  and  whose 
health  would  not  permit  them  to  fill  indoor  situations, 
even  if  they  could  obtain  them.  Some  of  these  agents 
make  as  much  as  two  thousand  dollars  a  year;  others 
easily  realize  a  profit  of  one  thousand  dollars  over  and 
above  all  expenses.  The  necessary  qualifications  are  so 
varied  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  enumerate  them 
here.  Much  depends  on  personal  magnetism  and  a 
quiet,  lady-like  persistence  in  representing  the  merits 
of  the  book,  and  in  adhering  strictly  to  business  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  win  the  respect  of  the  parties  who  are 
solicited  to  subscribe.  The  true  lady  will  compel  every 
man  into  whose  office  or  store  she  enters,  to  treat  her  as 
he  would  wish  his  own  mother  or  sister  to  be  treated  at 
the  hands  of  other  men.  She  has  a  right  to  be  heard; 
has  just  as  good  a  right  to  demand  a  market  for  her 
goods  as  he  has  for  his,  and  both  parties  must  approach 
each  other  on  the  basis  of  mutual  respect  and  tolerance. 
Ladies  who  go  into  strange  towns  to  canvass  should 
endeavor  to  obtain  board  in  a  respectable  private  family, 
if  they  expect  to  remain  some  time  in  the  place,  and 
then  begin  systematically  a  course  of  regular  canvassing, 
allowing  no  temporary  worries  and  disappointments  to  dis- 
courage them.  The  agent  must  not  be  too  sensitive,  or  for- 
get for  a  moment  the  object  she  has  in  view,  that  of  mak- 
ing an  honorable  living.  She  will,  if  she  is  wise,  always 
leave  a  good  impression  upon  those  whom  she  meets, 
whether  she  makes  a  sale  or  not;  the  way  will  be 

smoother  then  for  a  second  visit.     She  will  clearly  define 
10 


146  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

the  scope  and  value  of  the  work  she  is  endeavoring  to 
sell,  but  will  make  no  statements  which  she  can  not  sub- 
stantiate. To  be  able  to  do  this,  she  must  make  herself 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  work,  and  also  have 
confidence  in  the  publisher  who  employs  her;  and  a  good 
publisher  will  never  send  out  a  rubbishy  book.  She 
must  be  in  entire  sympathy  with  her  work,  and  know 
j  what  she  is  talking  about.  Such  an  agent  can  not  help 

being  successful. 

Lady  agents  will  do  well  to  dress  in  a  quiet  manner, 
wearing  but  little  jewelry,  but  presenting  a  neat,  lady- 
like appearance,  winning  rather  than  demanding  atten- 
tion, and  putting  aside  any  attempt  at  compliment  or 
raillery  from  strangers  with  a  quiet  dignity  of  manner, 
but  at  the  same  time  continuing  pleasantly  in  the  safe  and 
straightforward  path  of  business.  They  will  find  that  it 
depends  much  on  themselves  whether  they  are  success- 
ful or  not.  Even  if  they  do  not  succeed  at  once,  there  is 
a  possibility  that  they  may  do  well  the  next  time,  or,  at 
•  any  rate,  they  will  leave  that  good  impression  which  will 
smooth  the  way  for  a  later  venture. 

The  agent  who  regards  her  business  as  a  permanent 
one,  will  see  that  her  books  are  all  delivered  to  custom- 
ers as  per  agreement,  and  in  as  agreeable  a  manner  as 
[  the  order  was  taken.     One  of  the  most  successful  lady 

agents  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  who  has  by  means  of  her 
book  sales  purchased  a  charming  home,  says  that  she 
truly  believes  that  her  customers  are  always  glad  to  see 
her,  no  matter  what  she  brings  them,  sometimes  a  book, 
often  a  paper  or  magazine.  She  is  neither  young  nor 
pretty,  but  she  has  that  method  of  attracting  and  com- 


LADY   BOOK    GANVAS3EKS. 


147 


manding  respectful  attention  which  is  so  necessary  to 
her  business.  She  boards  always  among  the  best  people, 
and  is  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word  a  lady. 

OTHER  AGENCIES. 

Sewing  machines  have  been  a  very  popular  method  by 
which  women  make  money,  both  in  selling  the  machines 
and  in  operating  upon  them.  They  offer  very  suitable 
employment,  and  although  there  is  less  demand  for  them 
than  formerly,  and  the  profits  are  cut  down,  there  is  still 
money  to  be  made  in  that  special  department. 

Organs  and  pianos  can  be  bought  and  sold  by  one  who 
understands  the  business  and  is  disposed  to  turn  an 
honest  penny.  Music  teachers  make  considerable  money 
by  taking  an  order  for  a  piano  and  turning  it  over  to  a 
dealer,  who,  on  a  fine  instrument,  will  pay  a  commission 
of  from  $50  to  $100,  the  parties  who  are  purchasing  pay- 
ing for  the  instrument  its  regular  retail  rates. 

Cooking  stoves,  which  are  always  in  demand,  and 
which  any  woman  can  talk  about  intelligently,  can  be 
sold  from  circulars  and  photographs,  and  the  old  ones 
taken  at  a  fair  estimate  in  part  payment,  the  dealers  who 
send  out  the  agent  managing  the  moving  and  freight  of 
the  goods. 

Corsets  offer  another  good  and  useful  article  for  which 
ladies  can  canvass,  and  need  meet  only  their  own  sex  in 
making  sales.  Some  women  make  $20  a  week  selling 
corsets.  It  may  not  be  the  most  agreeable  method  of 
making  a  living,  but  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread. 

Insurance  companies  employ  a  number  of  lady  agents, 
who  solicit  orders,  fill  out  the  policies,  and  make  a  cer- 


148 


WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


tain  percentage  upon  each  new  member.    This  business 
ranks  about  the  same  as  the  book  agency. 

Charts  for  cutting  dresses,  boots  and  shoes,  small 
patent  articles  such  as  pillow-sham  holders,  and  a  great 
variety  of  household  articles,  are  sold  by  ladies,  but 
these  belong  more  particularly  to  the  commercial 
travelers. 


N  the  past  few  years  there  has  grown 
out  of  the  aesthetic  atmosphere  a 
new  and  important  industry  for 
women  in  the  organization  of  so- 
cieties for  promoting  the  use  and 
sale  of  fancy  and  decorative  work, 
hand-paintings  on  panels  and  screens,  and 
every  sort  of  hand  decorated  articles  for  use 
or  adornment  in  the  home.  These  are  sent 
to  what  is  known  as  an  "Exchange  for 
Women's  Work,"  numbers  of  which  have 
grown  up  through  the  country,  and  sold  for 
the  benefit  of  the  manufacturer  or  artist,  with 
a  small  commission,  which  goes  to  the  Ex- 
change. Everything  that  can  be  used  in  the 
household  is  for  sale  or  on  order  at  these  places.  Bread 
and  cake  are  supplied  to  families  daily,  and  the  makers 
remain  unknown,  some  of  the  best  society  ladies  thus 
employing  their  surplus  time  to  increase  their  skill  in 
cooking,  at  the  same  time  adding  not  a  little  to  their  pin 
money.  The  judicious  way  of  carrying  on  the  business 
largely  by  orders  prevents  loss  to  either  party.  The 
ready  sale  of  preserved  and  spiced  fruits,  pickles,  jellies 

149 


150  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

and  cakes,  has  offered  to  many  ladies  a  satisfactory 
return  for  their  work,  the  receipts  from  this  depart- 
ment alone,  in  the  New  York  Exchange,  amounting 
the  first  half  year  to  $6,000.  The  consigners  of  goods 
pay  for  yearly  membership  a  sum  of  $2  or  a  trifle  more, 
and  from  ten  to  fifteen  per  cent,  on  the  goods,  according 
to  the  class,  ten  per  cent,  being,  however,  the  regular 
price.  As  the  work  is  nearly  all  the  result  of  private 
enterprise,  it  is  much  better  than  the  same  class  of  goods 
found  in  stores;  and  there  is  such  a  general  assortment 
that  almost  everything  in  manufactured  goods  can  be 
found  there.  There  is  also  the  modern  supply  of  bric-a- 
brac,  old  china,  fine  needle  work,  rare  vases,  and  often 
the  articles  of  ancient  value  that  used  to  find  their  way 
into  the  pawnbrokers  hands  to  raise  money  for  immediate 
necessity,  are  disposed  of  in  these  places  at  something 
like  an  approximate  value,  the  class  of  people  who 
patronize  them  being  connoisseurs  in  art.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  this  is  a  woman's  institution,  organ- 
ized and  conducted  solely  by  women,  and  patronized  by 
them.  It  is  an  auxiliary  to  the  Decorative  Art  Society, 
many  of  the  ladies  engaged  in  this  work  being  sub- 
scribers to  that,  and,  consequently,  friendly  to  its  aims 
and  purposes.  They  appreciate  the  work  as  a  school, 
recognize  in  many  of  their  own  best  things  the  teachings 
of  that  society,  and  claim  that  in  furnishing  a  salesroom 
for  the  articles  rejected,  because  not  np  to  the  artistic 
standard,  yet  in  many  cases  beautiful  and  saleable, 
they  are  helping  those  who,  thoroughly  imbued  with  a 
proper  ambition,  can  not  afford  to  improve  unless  their 


ART   AND   INDUSTRIAL   EXCHANGES.  151 

unfortunate  efforts  can  give  them  the  means  for  another 
trial. 

Of  course  the  work  offered  to  the  Exchange  must  pass 
a  careful  examination  or  it  will  not  be  admitted.  The 
rules  which  govern  the  organization  are  about  the  same 
wherever  the  Exchange  exists,  and  inferior  work  would 
soon  injure  the  reputation  of  the  institution.  The  man- 
agers have  made  a  wide  detour  from  the  tirst  straight 
line  they  laid  down,  and  now  have  the  articles  of  use  in 
the  majority;  and  the  report  of  the  New  York  Woman's 
Exchange  states  that  "  the  managers  of  the  Exchange 
also  extend  a  helping  hand  to  the  many  intelligent  and 
cultivated  women  who  are  not  and  never  can  be  artists, 
and  who,  when  changed  circumstances  and  common 
sense  demand  that  they  shall  help  themselves,  have  the 
wisdom  to  do  what  they  can  find  a  market  for;  and  we 
hope  in  time  to  be  able  to  induce  many  with  no  talent  to 
throw  away  their  paint  brushes  and  follow  the  example 
of  those  who  contribute  to  our  department  of  useful 
things."  The  census  estimates  that  in  the  United  States 
there  are  fifteen  thousand  women  who  make  their  living 
canning  fruit  and  vegetables. 

In  order  to  reach  any  of  these  institutions  it  is  only 
necessary  to  send  a  stamp  for  return  postage  and  address 
the  Exchange  for  Woman's  Work,  New  York,  Chicago, 
Cincinnati,  Boston,  Detroit,  Mich.,  Cleveland,  Ohio,  Mil- 
waukee, Wis.,  or  any  of  the  cities  in  which  they  are 
located,  writing  the  full  address,  town,  county  and  State, 
with  postoffice  number,  and  requesting  a  circular  which 
will  fully  explain  their  manner  of  doing  business.  The 
aNew  York  Exchange  announces  that  in  the  time  during 


152  WHAT   CAN  A    WOMAN  DO. 

which  it  accepted  for  sale  sixteen  thousand  articles,  it 
rejected  only  twenty-five.  The  membership  to  this  insti- 
tution is  now  $5  yearly.  Among  the  articles  sold  at  these 
places  may  be  enumerated  all  kinds  of  Christmas  and 
birthday  gifts,  banners,  lambrequins  for  mantle  shelves, 
embroidered  pillow-shams,  napkin  bands,  suspenders, 
slippers,  toilet  articles,  shoe  bags,  whisk  holders,  toilet 
bags,  Macrame  lace  fringes  and  shopping  satchels,  silk 
mittens,  crazy  silk  work,  and  whatever  is  new  and  popu- 
lar at  the  moment.  In  the  cookery  department  loaves  of 
good  home-made  bread,  tea  biscuits,  cakes  of  all  kinds, 
large  and  small,  Charlotte  Russe,  and  any  delicacies  for 
the  table  that  can  be  safely  moved  in  transportation. 

SOMETHING    FOR    WOMAN    TO    DO — A    LADY    WHO    EARNS 
$10,000  A   YEAR  FROM   PRESERVES   AND   PICKLES. 

A  lady  writes  from  Boston:  "  I  have  often  heard  com- 
plaints that  there  was  nothing  for  women  to  do  by  which 
they  could  earn  as  much  money  as  men.  Perhaps  there 
is  nothing  in  the  same  line  of  business  as  that  followed 
by  men;  but  taking  all  the  professions  followed  by 
women,  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
money  made  by  them.  The  enormous  sums  paid  singers 
and  actresses  are  too  well  known  to  need  mentioning. 
But  there  are  other  lines  of  business  that  women  may 
follow,  who  have  no  natural  gifts  such  as  these.  I 
heard  the  other  day  of  a  lady  who  is  making  a  hand- 
some income  for  herself,  and  all  in  the  most  quiet  way. 
This  lady  is  a  Miss  Martin,  and  she  is  the  daughter  of  a 
gentleman  living  near  Auburn,  in  this  State  (N.  Y.),  who 
at  one  time  was  very  wealthy;  but  although  the  family 


ART   AND   INDUSTRIAL  EXCHANGES.  153 

still  live  in  the  old  homestead,  which  is  a  noble  mansion, 
they  are  very  much  reduced  in  circumstances.  Miss 
Martin,  when  she  became  old  enough  to  want  money, 
and  to  know  that  it  did  not  always  come  for  the  want- 
ing, cast  about  for  something  to  do  by  which  she  could 
earn  her  living  and  not  be  dependent  on  her  father.  It 
seemed  as  though  all  the  avenues  were  closed.  She  was 
not  gifted  in  any  particular  way,  though  she  was  a 
woman  of  excellent  education,  and  had  all  the  advan- 
tages that  came  from  a  high  social  position.  But  she 
neither  sang  well  enough  for  the  stage,  nor  had  she  any 
histrionic  talent.  In  giving  the  subject  serious  consider- 
ation, she  remembered  that  there  was  one  thing  she 
could  do  very  well,  and  that  was  preserving.  She  told 
her  friends  that  she  was  going  to  make  a  large  quantity 
of  pickles  and  preserves  of  different  kinds,  and  she 
wanted  to  sell  them.  Knowing  what  an  excellent  house- 
keeper she  was,  they  knew  that  anything  that  was  made 
under  her  supervision  would  be  sure  to  be  good,  so  she 
had  no  trouble  in  selling  all  she  had  the  first  year.  The 
second  year  she  made  more  yet,  and  was  unable  to  sup- 
ply the  demand.  The  third  year  she  increased  her  facil- 
ities, and  her  reputation  had  by  this  time  spread  so  far 
that  she  did  a  very  large  business,  and  even  sold  to  some 
of  the  larger  stores  of  New  York.  Now  a  friend  of  hers 
tells  me  that  her  profits  from  pickles  and  preserves 
reaches  the  very  comfortable  sum  of  $6,000  to  $10,000 
a  year,  and  she  only  works  from  May  to  November. 
Auburn  being  a  little  far  from  the  New  York  markets, 
where  fruit  can  be  bought  best  and  cheapest,  Miss  Mar- 
tin has  come  down  and  taken  a  place  at  Glen  Cove,  to 


154 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


gain  the  advantages  of  a  nearer  residence  to  New  York. 
One  of  the  secrets  of  Miss  Martin's  success  is  that  every- 
thing she  makes  is  the  very  best  of  its  kind.  All  the 
ingredients  she  uses  in  her  pickles  and  preserves  are  the 
best  in  the  market,  and  though  she  employs  a  number 
of  men  and  women,  she  superintends  everything  herself, 
and  while  her  articles  are  all  in  the  shops,  they  have  a 
home-like  taste  that  is  unmistakable.  All  the  jars  bear 
her  initials,  written  mfac-simile  of  her  autograph,  on  a 
neat  label  on  the  side.  A  sister  of  Miss  Martin,  seeing 
her  success,  cast  about  for  something  to  do.  Of  course 
she  did  not  want  to  go  into  the  same  line  of  business, 
and  finally  she  struck  upon  cake-making  as  a  means  of 
livelihood,  and  her  cakes  are  now  almost  as  celebrated  as 
her  sister's  pickles  and  preserves.  She  lives  at  Auburn, 
but  she  receives  orders  from  New  York,  and  even  New- 
port. Miss  Martin's  cakes  are  considered  an  essential 
part  of  a  well  regulated  family  in  New  York. 

PURCHASING  AGENCIES. 

In  many  large  cities  there  are  ladies  who  make  a  liveli- 
hood by  purchasing  goods  on  commission,  their  custom- 
ers being  persons  who  live  at  a  distance  from  the  metrop- 
olis, and  who  send  to  them  for  dress  goods,  millinery  or 
house  furnishings;  anything,  in  fact,  from  a  bridal  trous- 
seau to  a  paper  of  pins.  These  shopping  agents  charge 
a  small  commission  to  the  customer,  while  the  merchant 
sells  to  them  at  wholesale  rates,  so  that  they  average  a 
profit  of  twenty-five  per  cent,  on  all  money  expended. 
It  is  a  safe  and  pleasant  business,  the  parties  transact- 
ing it  being  mutually  endorsed  by  responsible  people. 


AltT   AND   IJtfDUSTKIAL  EXCHANGES.  155 

Among  the  trades  which  are  specially  adapted  to  deft 
feminine  fingers  are  the  fine  arts  of  repairing  and  rivet- 
ing broken  glass  and  China,  mending  delicate  fans,  and 
restoring  chipped  pottery.  There  is  no  known  reason 
why  a  woman  with  a  fair  musical  ear  should  not  practice 
tuning  pianos:  this  is  an  occupation  which  requires  little 
outlay  in  the  way  of  implements.  Another  profession 
in  which  a  woman  of  artistic  tendencies  could  turn  with 
profit  in  this  aesthetic  age  is  adviser  in  relation  to  artistic 
furnishing  of  houses,  selecting  hangings,  stained  glass, 
oriental  rugs  and  fine  furniture  on  commission.  This 
profession  is  not  necessarily  attached  to,  though  supple- 
mental to  a  knowledge  of,  architecture,  and  the  Garrets 
have  made  this  business  very  profitable.  It  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  most  of  these  suggestions  are  appli- 
cable to  dwellers  in  large  cities,  where  there  is  suflicient 
demand  to  create  the  supply. 

Correcting  proof,  not  for  printers  so  much  as  for 
authors,  preparing  manuscripts  for  the  press,  and  fur- 
nishing indices  to  works  of  importance,  demand  an  eye 
well  trained  to  the  latest  English  exploits  in  preferred 
spellings,  a  fair  knowledge  of  modern  and  classic  lan- 
guages, or,  at  any  rate,  an  enterprising  intimacy  with 
their  dictionaries,  besides  a  good  knowledge  of  the 
subject  of  any  work. 

Already  we  hear  of  a  few  women  who  have  made  nota- 
ble success  at  indexing  libraries,  both  in  Boston  and  in 
Philadelphia.  This  is  an  occupation  that  all  assistant 
librarians  should  expect  to  grow  up  into,  as  the  catalogue 
maker  stands  next  in  importance  to  the  book  maker.  It 


156  WHAT   CAN   A    WOMAN  DO. 

is,  besides,  valuable  as  educational  aid,  and  there  is  no 
trained  teacher  or  professor  but  might  be  proud  to  suc- 
ceed in  it. 

MENDING  AND  DARNING. 

Some  old  ladies  who  are  neat  and  handy  with  the 
needle  make  quite  a  little  money  by  darning  and  mend- 
ing, filling  up  their  otherwise  spare  time  profitably  and 
pleasantly.  But  even  to  succeed  in  this  they  must  be 
artists.  Is  there  anything  more  uncomfortable  than  a 
rough,  unseemly  darn?  Many  a  man  will  wear  hose 
that  are  as  perforated  as  a  sieve  rather  than  encounter  a 
hasty  darn.  As  a  general  thing,  young  men  away  from 
home  have  no  one  to  call  upon  to  perform  this  kindly 
office  for  them  excepting  their  washerwomen,  and  these 
are  by  no  means  adepts  in  the  art  of  darning  or  mend- 
ing, and  the  youth  who  has  been  accustomed  at  home  to 
having  his  hose  mended  and  ready  for  him  to  draw  on, 
the  missing  button  replaced,  the  torn  or  fringed  garment 
neatly  repaired,  devotes  his  Sundays  to  a  renovation  of 
his  wardrobe,  or  goes  ragged. 

Now,  suppose  he  paid  5  cents  a  pair  to  have  his  socks 
darned,  2  cents  each  for  buttons  sewed  on,  3  cents  for  a 
patch,  or  25  cents  a  week  to  have  his  clothes  kept  in 
good  repair,  how  small  a  sum  for  comfort,  and  easily 
saved  out  of  a  small  salary,  by  abolishing  some  trifling 
expense  of  cigars  or  car  fare.  A  class  of  these  young 
men  could  be  easily  obtained,  and  to  this  industry  could 
be  added  family  mending,  carpet  repairing,  lace  darning, 
linen  marking,  etc.  A  skillful  woman  could  make  a  liv 


ART   AND   INDUSTRIAL   EXCHANGES.  157 

ing  easily  out  of  these  fragmentary  industries.  But 
here,  as  in  all  other  branches,  comes  in  the  question  of 
fitness,  adaptability,  system.  Good  menders,  who  are 
willing  to  serve  the  public,  are  just  as  hard  to  find  as 
trained  help  in  other  and  more  important  departments. 

READY   WRITERS. 

In  large  cities  like  New  York  there  are  women  who 
make  a  living  by  writing  letters,  principally  for  servants 
or  people  of  neglected  education.  They  write  a  beauti- 
ful chirography,  and  are  happy  in  expressing  the  senti- 
ments of  their  different  employers;  the  service  rates 
from  10  cents  to  25  cents  a  letter.  These  writers  are 
gifted  with  vivid  imaginations,  and  they  can  indite  a 
love-letter,  a  message  to  distant  friends,  a  business  mis- 
sive, or  a  lecture  or  political  address  with  the  utmost 
ease.  There  is  one  woman  in  New  York  who  makes 
considerable  money  out  of  the  work.  She  has  a  suite  of 
rooms  plainly  but  comfortably  furnished,  and  her  cus- 
tomers have  regular  hours  to  see  her,  when  she  writes  to 
their  dictation,  charging  by  the  hour,  which  she  divides 
in  sections,  not  engaging  her  pen  for  less  service  than 
that  of  a  quarter  hour.  Her  terms  are  one  dollar  an 
hour,  and  the  people  who  employ  her  are  of  the  better 
sort  of  uneducated  trades  people,  who  are  ashamed  of 
their  ignorance.  She  writes  fluently  in  French,  German, 
Italian,  and  English,  and  shrewdly  insists  upon  furnish- 
ing her  own  paper,  envelopes,  and  stamps,  upon  which 
she  realizes  a  small  per  centage. 

There  are  also  women  who  write  verses  for  valentines, 


158 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


mottoes  for  candy,  obituary  notices,  advertisements,  cir- 
culars, visiting  cards,  cards  of  condolence,  etc.  The 
type-writer  and  copying  press  have  taken  a  great  share 
of  the  copyist's  work  from  her,  but  many  girls  and 
women  are  yet  employed  on  law  work,  copying  the 
voluminous  legal  writings,  which  result  in  every  impor- 
tant case. 


MRS.  EDNA  C.  NOBLE, 


,«*• 


| *  O locuf ior). 


the  student,  reading  and  declaiming 
poems  and  prose  selections  now  offers 
a  really  important  field  of  labor  in 
the  smaller  towns  and  cities  where 
there  are  no  theatres,  giving  a  very 
fair  remuneration  to  the  public  reader.  In 
larger  towns  it  is  the  custom  for  wealthy 
society  ladies  to  invite  them  to  furnish  an 
evening's  amusement  and  entertainment 
to  friends,  and  the  young  debutante  in 
this  particular  branch  need  have  no  false 
ideas  of  pride  in  regard  to  a  paid  invita- 
tion, where  she  can  do  honor  to  her  pro- 
fession, charm  a  circle  of  interested  listen- 
ers, and  add  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty-five  dollars  to  her 
income.  It  is  understood  that  she  is  a  professional 
reader,  and  not  an  amateur  'or  volunteer.  She  makes 
her  entrance  at  the  hour  designated  by  the  hostess, 
reads  her  selections,  with  brief  interludes  of  music,  and 
when  she  has  finished  quietly  withdraws,  regarding  the 
guests  simply  as  an  audience.  There  is  nothing  derog- 
atory to  the  dignity  of  any  lady  in  giving  these  readings 

159 


160  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

or  recitations.  She  takes  the  same  stand  that  the  pianist 
or  other  musical  artist  does,  who,  if  he  be  an  artist,  rises 
superior  to  an}/  mere  pretention  to  the  claims  of  society, 
and  distinguishes  himself  as  an  exponent  of  his  art.  To 
insist  on  being  a  guest  is  lowering  the  standard  of  pro- 
fessional dignity.  That  matter  will  adjust  itself  in  small 
social  circles,  but  in  the  severe  ethics  of  metropolitan 
society  rules  are  arbitrary,  and  an  attempt  to  break  them 
would  result  in  disagreeable  failure. 

Schools  for  elocution  are  now  established  in  Boston, 
New  York,  and  many  smaller  towns,  and  they  offer 
great  advantages  to  the  student,  as  in  developing  the 
voice  the  lungs  are  strengthened,  the  general  health 
improved,  and  an  easy,  graceful  manner  acquired, 
together  with  a  culture  which  comes  of  the  combined 
forces  of  aesthetic  development  included  in  the  studies  of 
this  course  of  education.  In  Detroit,  Michigan,  there  is  a 
training  school  in  elocution  and  English  literature,  man- 
aged and  sustained  by  Mrs.  Edna  Chaffee  Noble,  whose 
portrait  will  be  found  in  this  work.  Mrs.  Noble  is 
assisted  by  a  large  corps  of  teachers  and  professors, 
many  of  whom  are  graduates  of  her  school,  and  are  now 
reimbursing  themselves  in  this  manner.  English  liter- 
ature, classes  in  Shakespeare,  in  mythology,  in  many 
ancient  and  abstruse  studies  are  included  in  the  course, 
but  the  aim  of  the  school  is  to  teach  a  high  standard  of 
elocution.  It  is,  perhaps,  a  sufficient  diploma  for  Mrs. 
Noble,  that  her  scholars  are  many  of  them  successful 
teachers,  and  earning  a  good  living,  while  ladies  who 
studied  with  her  for  the  advantage  of  the  culture  elocu- 
tion gives,  have  the  power  to  gratify  themselves  and 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  ELOCUTION.  161 

their  friends  by  the  accomplishment.  The  Detroit 
School  of  Elocution  has  sent  its  pupils  out  as  readers 
north  and  south,  east  and  west,  and  they  have  the  capac- 
ity of  filling  halls  wherever  they  go  with  a  paying  audi- 
ence. The  labor  of  the  course  is  severe,  but  it  is  thor- 
ough and  beneficial. 

There  is  now  a  literature  of  elocution,  so  that  the 
reader  can,  without  difficulty,  find  grave  or  gay  selec- 
tions, new  methods  to  please,  and  so  fill  out  an  evening 
with  a  variety  that  gives  the  vocal  organs  full  scope  for 
all  their  powers.  The  elocutionist  can  imitate  a  bird 
singing,  a  chicken  piping,  machinery  creaking,  a  child 
laughing,  or  a  piano  playing.  Slie  can  make  her  list- 
ener cry  or  laugh  at  will.  She  can  read  tragedy  or 
comedy  with  a  stage  effect  that  gives  it  all  the  attrac- 
tions of  a  theatre,  without  its  associations,  and  she  can 
whistle  like  a  boy,  or  like  a  steam  engine — things  that 
seem  of  little  account,  but  which  require  months  of 
careful  study  to  accomplish.  Mrs.  Noble  has  made  her 
school  a  financial  as  well  as  an  educational  success.  The 
course  includes  the  whole  science  of  elocution,  voice- 
building,  vocal  physiology,  and  other  calisthenics  of 
the  organs  of  speech.  Mrs.  Noble  is  the  director  of  the 
school;  the  faculty  consists  of  an  equal  number  of  male 
and  female  professors. 

"A  great  deal,"  says  K  H.  Gillespie,  "has  been  said 
and  written  upon  the  subject  of  elocution.  Authors  and 
teachers  have  furnished  excellent  rules  for  pronuncia- 
tion and  the  correct  modulation  of  the  voice;  they  have 

explained  the  nature  and  use  of  stress,  volume,  pitch, 

11 


162  WHAT   CAN"  A   WOMAN   DO. 

slides,  inflections,  and  all  the  other  elements  which  entei 
into  correct  reading  and  speaking. 

This  drill,  however,  though  very  useful  and  even 
necessary  to  a  successful  cultivation  of  the  art  of  speak- 
ing, will  never  make  an  elocutionist.  It  may  render  a 
person  a  good  mimic  or  imitator,  but  that  is  all. 

To  become  an  elocutionist  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word,  one  must  learn  to  do  what  Dr.  Johnson  declared 
was  done  by  Garrick,  the  celebrated  actor.  When  asked 
his  opinion  of  the  reputation  attained  by  that  wonderful 
interpreter  of  Shakespeare,  he  replied:  "Oh,  sir,  he 
deserves  everything  he  has  acquired  for  having  seized 
the  soul  of  Shakespeare,  for  having  embodied  it  in  him- 
self, and  for  having  expanded  its  glory  over  the  world." 
Yes,  herein,  lies  the  secret  of  elocution — one  must  seize 
the  soul  of  the  author  whose  thoughts  he  would  repro- 
duce; he  must  embody  that  soul  in  himself,  making  it  a 
part  of  his  own  being,  and  then  he  will  speak  with  that 

forcible  eloquence  which  alone  deserves   the  name  of 
I 

elocution. 

Having  ascertained  the  meaning  of  the  author,  the 
next  and  most  important  step  is,  as  Dr.  Johnson  has  it, 
to  seize  and  embody  in  one's  self  the  soul  of  the  author. 
This  is  accomplished  by  studying  carefully  the  character 
of  the  man,  ascertaining  his  peculiarities,  his  habits  of 
thought,  his  natural  disposition  and  temper — in  a  woj*d, 
the  tone  of  his  mind. 

Then  comes  the  last  step,  which  consists  in  putting 
one's  self,  for  the  time  at  least,  in  that  man's  place, 
creating  in  one's  self  a  tone  and  habit  of  thought  similar 
to  his,  and  striving  to  feel  as  he  most  likely  felt  while 


THE   PROFESSION   OF   ELOCUTION.  163 

writing,  or  as  lie  would  probably  feel  were  he  to  deliver 
orally  what  he  had  written.  Thus  prepared  and  worked 
up  into  the  spirit  of  the  author,  the  speaker  may  fear- 
lessly come  forward  and  feel  perfectly  confident  that 
with  ordinary  speaking  ability  he  will  express  forcibly 
the  thoughts  of  the  author.  And  this  is  true  elocution. 
The  address  delivered  to  the  graduating  class  of  the 
Detroit  Training  School,  1883,  by  Mrs.  Edna  Chaffee 
Noble,  is  worthy  of  careful  reading. 

THE    STUDY    OP    ELOCUTION. 

In  coming  before  you  in  the  past,  I  have  avoided  every- 
thing that  seemed  explanatory  of  the  use  or  abuse  of  the  art  I 
taught,  thinking  the  time  of  my  pupils  so  precious  that  it  would 
be  a  waste  to  talk  of  that  with  which  I  hoped  and  thought  they 
were  already  familiar.  I  think  I  should  have  used  a  part  of  the 
time  at  least  more  fitly  and  wisely,  had  I  striven  to  impress 
upon  them  the  true  value  of  the  study  of  elocution.  I  find  that 
many  persons  of  broad  culture  and  education  have  given  little 
thought  or  care  to  the  art  of  delivery,  and  the  greater  number 
of  my  pupils  have  studied  with  me  because  the  study  was  novel 
or  pleasing,  or  to  pass  away  time,  or  because  a  friend  studied, 
or  to  make  a  little  show  with  a  few  select  recitations,  and  I 
now  believe  that  very  few  understood  the  value  of  close  appli- 
cation, of  regular,  thorough  drill,  of  well-seasoned  and  well- 
timed  practice  in  this  work.  A  little  thought  upon  this  shows 
me  that  there  have  been  few  subjects  that  are  of  the  least 
importance  as  educators  in  our  land,  where  none  need  be  ignor- 
ant, that  have  been  so  little  written  upon  or  talked  about,  or 
held  up  as  worthy  working  for,  as  this  study  of  training  the 
natural  voice  to  its  highest  powers  in  speaking,  this  study  of 
modulating  voice  and  breath  into  distinct  and  separate  forms, 


164 


WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 


this  study  at  its  best,  of  rendering  thought  and  feeling  tangible, 
that  others  may  grasp  it  and  look  at  it  as  we  do,  this  study  so 
neglected  of  bringing  to  the  highest  development  articulate 
sounds,  is  the  great  gift  from  God  which  distinguishes  us  from 
the  brute. 

The  art  of  speaking  well  is  a  characteristic  mark  between  the 
educated  and  the  unlearned,  and  is  closely  connected  with  labors 
in  the  highest  walks  of  ambition  and  taste;  yet,  with  many, 
elocution  is  a  term  representing  something  that  is  considered 
entirely  artificial,  worse  than  unnecessary,  and  the  results  of  its 
study  altogether  to  be  deplored,  and  they  even  go  so  far  as  to 
speak  lightly,  and  even  contemptuously,  of  it.  A  few  sentences 
expressing  doubts  in  the  mind  of  some  candid  person,  in  regard 
to  the  beneficial  results  of  elocution  in  the  community,  came  to 
my  notice  a  few  weeks  ago,  and,  I  remember,  elicited  much 
comment  from  members  of  this  class,  and  much  surprise.  Your 
own  fresh  interest  could  not  allow  that  another's  thought  upon 
this  subject  should  differ  from  your  own.  Criticism  and  doubt 
are  good  if  founded  upon  thorough  knowledge,  but  many 
to-day  find  it  easy  to  pass  judgment  upon  a  subject  of  which 
they  are  totally  ignorant,  and  criticise  in  proportion,  as  they 
have  not  studied. 

T>r,  Holmes  says  a  man  behind  the  times  is  apt  to  speak  ill  of 
them,  on  the  principle  that  nothing  looks  well  from  behind. 
Let  us  hope  that  this  doubter  is  viewing  the  art  of  elocution 
from  behind,  for  whoever  is  ignorant  of  a  subject  can  not  seri- 
ously appreciate  it,  or  criticise  its  merits  or  demerits,  much  less 
define  the  harm  or  good  of  its  being.  There  are  reasons  why 
the  common  observer  should  criticise  a  subject  he  has  not  inves- 
tigated. The  efforts  to  which  his  attention  is  usually  called  are 
the  results,  not  of  finished,  careful  training,  but  are  the  crude 
attempts  of  a  person  who  has  mastered  the  beginning  of  an  art, 


r 

i 
i 
i] 

THE  PROFESSION   OF   ELOCUTION.  165 

I 

and  mistaken  it  for  the  end.     How  many  years  are  spent  in 

incessant  toil,  in  close  discipline,  in  orderly  tasks,  to  produce 
accomplishment  of  voice  for  singing  ?  How  many  weary  hours 
of  practice  upon  the  piano,  the  careful  lessons  in  touch  and 
style,  the  earnest  application  of  ear  and  eye — the  giving  of 
one's  life  and  fortune  lo  the  acquirement  of  an  art  which  not 
one  out  of  one  hundred  ever  uses  for  one's  own  pleasure  or  profit, 
or  for  the  delight  of  others  ?  Compare  these  worthy  efforts  with 
the  feeble  attempts  to  master  the  art  of  elocution,  and  no  longer 
be  surprised  that  mere  lookers  on  should  "  consider  it  a  serious 
question  whether  elocution  does  not  do  more  harm  than  good  in 
the  community."  It  is  not  easy  to  impress  upon  people  the 
value  of  elocutionary  study,  or  the  necessity  to  spend  time  and 
money  in  the  acquirement  of  this  art,  because  the  belief  has, 
through  some  means,  gained  a  strong  hold  that  reading  is  not  a 
subject  that  can  be  taught;  that  it  has  no  rules,  no  principles, 
except  those  of  nature,  and  that  in  this  work  nature  must  exer- 
cise her  own  powers.  The  opinion  is  common  that  the  ability 
to  read  well  is  a  talent,  an  unstudied  and  unsought  power,  given 
to  one  and  denied  another.  "  In  this  world  all  things  bear  two 
meanings — one  for  the  common  observer,  and  one  for  the  mind 
of  him  who,  with  an  earnest  purpose  and  steadfast,  loving  heart, 
penetrates  into  those  mines  of  hidden  riches,  the  treasures  of 
science  and  imagination."  These  two  interpretations  are  given 
to  all  arts,  and  especially  to  that  science  and  art  of  all  that  is 
embodied  in  the  word  elocution.  Undoubtedly  something 
depends,  in  reading,  upon  natural  talent,  but  hard  work  is  neces- 
sary to  liberate  the  wondrous  manifestations  of  human  thought 
and  life  which  are  prisoned  behind  those  bars,  the  closed  lips. 

Reading  is  not  like  many  other  arts,  absolutely  forbidden  to 
those  who  have  not  served  an  apprenticeship.  Painting  and 
sculpture  are  unnoted  by  comment,  unless  the  skilled  hand  has 


166  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

wrought.  But  the  rudest  and  most  uneducated  handle  these 
tools  of  speech  every  day;  and  it  is  only  the  skilled  tongue  that 
can  lift  them  out  of  their  ordinary  life,  through  this  art  of  arts, 
and  place  the  result  beside  the  masterpieces  in  marble  and  color, 
and  beyond  the  reach  of  vulgar  criticism. 

THE  THOUSAND-FOLD  HABIT  OF  SPEECH 

has  made  its  processes  so  unconscious  that  when  they  at  first 
become  conscious  they  are  almost  sure  to  become  unnatural. 
Legouv6  gives  an  account  of  a  character  written  for  a  child  in 
one  of  his  plays  which  was  given  to  a  girl  of  ten,  full  of  grace 
and  intelligence.  He  says:  "  At  the  general  rehearsal  my  little 
actress  did  wonders,  and  a  spectator  sitting  in  front  of  me 
applauded  very  loudly,  exclaiming,  'What  truth,  what  sim- 
plicity! It  is  very  evident  that  she  has  never  been  taught  to 
do  that.'  Now,  for  a  whole  month,"  Legouve  says,  "  I  had  done 
nothing  but  teach  her  that  part,  intonation  by  intonation.  Not 
that  in  any  way  it  was  beyond  her  childish  capacity,  for  many 
of  the  expressions  were  borrowed  from  my  little  actress  herself. 
But  so  soon  as  these  expressions  were  embodied  in  her  part,  so 
soon  as  she  had  to  recite  them,  every  trace  of  naturalness  van- 
ished. "What  she  said  to  perfection  when  she  spoke  for  herself, 
she  uttered  coldly  and  unmeaningly  when  she  spoke  for  another; 
and  it  cost  me  much  time  and  labor  to  bring  her  back  to  herself; 
to  reteach  hei\  It  thus  appears  that  reading  is  so  deep  an  art 
that  it  must  be  taught  to  those  who  reveal  it  to  us."  Art  and 
nature  will  never  perfectly  blend  until  those  who  attempt  to 
become  artists  in  this  direction  are  willing  to  serve  as  faithfully 
for  this  acquisition,  work  as  devotedly,  with  as  much  consecra- 
tion, and  give  as  much  time  to  its  study  and  practice  as  they 
would  in  the  cultivation  of  any  of  the  higher  arts. 

Popular  prejudice  often  deters  people  from  even  an  investiga- 

I 


THE  PKOFESSION   OF   ELOCUTION.  167 

tion  of  very  important  subjects.  Six  years  ago  fully  one-half  of 
my  pupils  came  secretly  to  take  their  lessons  in  elocution. 
Clergymen  and  married  ladies  were  among  the  timid;  they 
feared  people  would  know  they  were  making  an  effort  to  over- 
come harshness  of  voice  or  awkwardness  of  manner.  "God's 
highest  gift  to  man  is  speech,  and  it  is  too  solemn  a  thing  to 
treat  so  lightly.  It  grows  out  from  our  life,  out  of  its  agonies 
and  ecstasies,  its  wants  and  its  weariness.  Speech  is  the  temple 
in  which  the  soul  is  enshrined."  Why  should  we  not  be  proud 
to  keep  such  a  temple  in  repair  ?  Our  commonest  words,  if  prop- 
erly uttered,  hang  pictures  before  our  eyes  more  wonderful  than 
the  paintings  of  the  greatest  masters,  for  nowhere  does  man  as 
artist  come  so  near  the  Divine  Creator  as  in  the  words  he  uses, 
— out  of  our  mouths  are  we  condemned  or  exalted.  Legere  est 
illuminare. 

We  are  now  at  the  end  of  our  short  journey  together. 
Columbus  took  note  of  his  passage  on  his  voyage  of  discovery, 
and  could  make  it  again  unaided,  but  many  of  the  men  who 
were  with  him  knew  only  of  the  fathomless,  stormy  sea.  May 
I  not  hope  that  a  way  has  been  noted  by  you  so  that  you  may 
make  subsequent  passages  alone.  Mark  that  I  say  a  way,  not 
the  way.  Let  me  entreat  you  not  to  make  your  method 
your  idol.  "  Iron  is  essentially  the  same  everywhere  and  always, 
and  because  the  sulphate  of  iron  differs  from  the  carbonate  of 
iron,  do  not  forget  that  it  is  iron  all  the  same."  Elocution  is 
elocution,  and  because  the  Smithate  elocution  differs  from 
the  Brownate,  do  not  let  that  render  you  intolerant  of  all  that 
does  not  bear  the  seal  of  the  Detroit  Training  School.  Do  not 
label  your  wares  like  vendors  of  patent  medicines,  saying  all 
are  base  counterfeits  unless  bearing  this  seal.  In  fact,  do 

O  * 

not  talk  too  much  about  yourselves  or  your  work.  "  A  little 
knowledge  is  a  danjjerons  thing" — dangerous,  because  it  is  apt 


168  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

to  make  us  conceited,  and  conceit  hedges  up  the  path  to  newer 
knowledge,  and  although  I  would  most  heartily  urge  you  to 
faith  in  your  work  and  enthusiasm  for  it,  yet  do  not  let  your 
ardor  be  one  that  will  lower  your  art  in  the  minds  of  the  disin- 
terested. There  was  once  a  simpleton  who  had  a  house  to  sell, 
and  had  constantly  on  exhibition  a  brick  as  a  sample  of  his 
great  possession.  A  consciousness  of  knowledge  is  best  made 
known  by  doing  something  so  well  that  the  deed  will  speak  for 
itself,  and  will  require  no  puffing  or  labeling.  Do  not  be  too 
sure  that  the  value  your  friends  set  upon  your  accomplishments 
will  at  all  coincide  with  your  market  value;  and  do  not  be  dis- 
couraged if  the  public  estimate  your  worth  below  your  own 
fixed  ideas.  "Do  the  prettiest  thing  you  can  and  wait  your 
time,"  for  if  you  have  powers  beyond  the  ordinary,  be  sure 
there  will  be  a  time  and  place  for  the  exercise  of  those  powers. 

The  world,  in  its  need,  is  keen  to  detect  the  best,  and  requires 
no  sign  to  designate  its  abode.  You  must  not  rest  upon  the 
laurels  you  have  already  won,  but  remember  that  "It  never 
rains  roses;  if  we  want  more  roses  we  must  plant  more  trees." 
Work  is  the  only  key  to  success,  Burns  plowed  the  daisy 
under  before  he  lifted  it  up  to  bloom  in  immortal  verse. 

No  clock  ever  yet  struck  twelve  without  giving  all  the  strokes 
from  one,  and  I  hope  you  have  learned  this  most  valuable  lesson, 
that  you  can  not  hope  to  compute  the  highest  numbers  in  the 
problems  of  life  or  fame  without  counting  patiently  the  units. 


HE  stranger  in  New  York  who  may 
chance  to  visit  the  east  side  of  the 
city,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Twenty- 
sixth  street,  will  have  his  attention 
called  to  a  long,  grayish,  four-story 
prison-like  structure,  with  a  wing, 
situated  in  a  block  which  extends  to  the 
East  River,  and  inclosed  by  a  high,  for- 
bidding stone  wall.  This  is  the  Bellevue 
Hospital,  the  chief  free  public  institution 
of  the  kind  in  America.  For  many  years 
it  has  been  famous  for  the  high  medical 
and  surgical  skill  of  which  it  is  the  thea- 
ter, its  faculty  embracing  many  leading 
members  of  the  profession  in  the  city. 
For  many  years  to  come  it  is  likely  to  be  popularly 
associated  with  another  high  development  of  the  cura- 
tive arts, — the  results  of  the  founding,  in  1873,  of  the 
Bellevue  Training  School  for  Nurses,  and  of  a  new  pro- 
fession for  women  in  America. 

Not  long  ago  a  lady  living  in  the  suburbs  of  one  of 
our  eastern  cities,  whose  daughter  was  ill  with  fever, 
was  urged  by  her  physician  to  employ  a  professional 

169 


170  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

nurse.  She  was  loth  to  do  this,  but,  as  the  malady 
increased  in  virulence,  she  finally  yielded.  The  follow- 
ing morning  the  servant  announced  "the  nurse."  To 
the  mother's  imagination — overwrought  as  it  was  by 
lack  of  rest  and  by  unremitting  watching — the  words 
called  up  the  most  disagreeable  anticipations  of  a  care- 
less and  disorderly  person,  and  perhaps  even  a  dark  rem- 
iniscence of  Sairey  Gamp  scolding,  trembling  invalids, 
removing  their  pillows,  or  drinking  copiously  from  black 
bottles,  while  grim-visaged  Betsey  Prig  looked  on  with 
unconcern.  With  these  pictures  of  the  professional 
nurse  before  her,  she  descended  to  the  hall.  There,  to 
her  surprise,  she  found  a  young  woman  of  intelligent 
face,  neat  apparel,  and  quiet  demeanor. 

"You  are " 

"The  nurse,  madam." 

Saying  which,  the  stranger  exhibited  a  badge  inscribed 
with  the  words,  "  Bellevue  Hospital  Training  School  for 
Nurses,"  and  decorated  with  a  stork,  the  emblem  of 
watchfulness. 

The  physician  now  appearing,  the  nurse  listened  atten- 
tively to  his  instructions.  Her  movements,  while  pre- 
paring for  duty,  inspired  with  confidence  both  mother 
and  patient.  Her  skillful  hand  prepared  the  food,  her 
watchful  eye  anticipated  every  want.  She  was  calm, 
patient,  and  sympathizing;  but,  though  eager  to  please 
and  cheer  the  invalid,  she  did  not  stoop  to  simulate  an 
affection  she  did  not  feel,  nor  to  express  hopes  of  recov- 
ery that  could  not  be  realized.  The  exaction,  the  impa- 
tience incident  to  illness,  seemed  but  to  incite  her  to 
renewed  effort  in  behalf  of  her  charge.  She  met  every 


THE   PROFESSION   OF  NURSING.  171 

emergency  with  knowledge  and  unruffled  spirit.  To  the 
physician  she  proved  an  invaluable  assistant,  executing 
his  orders  intelligently,  and  recording  accurately  the 
various  symptoms  as  they  were  developed.  She  watched 
the  temperature  of  the  room  as  closely  as  she  did  that  of 
the  patient,  and,  while  always  polite  and  obliging,  was 
never  obsequious.  The  mother  had  doubtless  heard 
indirectly  of  the  school  of  which  her  efficient  nurse  was 
a  graduate,  but  she  was,  as  many  others  are,  unfamiliar 
with  its  work  and  aims. 

When  the  managers  of  the  training  school  announced, 
some  years  since,  that  they  would  send  nurses  to  private 
families  in  cases  of  illness,  the  applications  were  so  few 
that  they  were  led  to  fear  that  this  branch  of  the  school 
would  be  unsupported,  and  that  the  nurses  would  find 
themselves  deceived  regarding  their  future  prospects. 
But  the  value  of  the  trained  nurse,  little  known  at  that 
time  in  America,  soon  began  to  be  recognized,  and  the 
demand  for  such  services  increased,  until,  at  the  present 
time,  there  is  a  greater  call  for  nurses  than  can  be  sup- 
plied. Many  who  formerly  refused  to  consider  a  sug- 
gestion to  call  in  a  nurse,  now  eagerly  apply  for  them; 
and  surgeons,  in  certain  instances,  have  refused  to  per- 
form operations  without  the  subsequent  assistance  of  a 
trained  nurse. 

Before  going  to  a  private  house,  the  nurse  is  carefully 
instructed  by  the  superintendent.  She  must  not  leave  it 
without  communicating  with  her,  nor  return  from  her 
duties  without  a  certificate  of  conduct  and  efficiency 
from  the  family  of  the  patient  or  the  physician  attend- 
ing. She  is  expected  and  urged  to  bear  in  mind  the 


172  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

importance  of  the  situation,  and  to  show,  at  all  times, 
self-denial  and  forbearance.  She  must  take  upon  her- 
self the  entire  charge  of  the  sick  room.  Above  all,  she 
is  charged  to  hold  sacred  any  knowledge  of  its  private 
affairs  which  she  may  acquire  through  her  temporary 
connection  with  the  household.  She  receives  a  stipu- 
lated sum  for  her  services,  but  this  will  not  always  com- 
pensate her  for  the  annoyances  with  which  the  position 
is  occasionally  beset. 

The  nurses  at  the  Bellevue  school  may  be  divided  into 
two  classes:  those  who  study  the  art  of  nursing  with  a 
view  to  gaining  a  livelihood  or  supporting  their  families, 
and  those  who  look  forward  to  a  life  of  usefulness  among 
the  poor  sick.  All  are  lodged  and  boarded  free  of  charge 
during  the  two  years  course,  and  are  paid  a  small  sum 
monthly,  while  in  the  school,  to  defray  their  actual 
necessary  expenses,  and,  in  order  to  avoid  all  distinction 
between  rich  and  poor,  every  nurse  is  expected  to  receive 
this  pay.  The  scheme  adopted — that  developed  by  Miss 
Nightingale — demanded  in  the  applicant  a  combination 
of  requisites  the  mere  enumeration  of  which  appalled 
many  who  had  been  encouraged  to  seek  admission  to 
the  school.  These  are  :  Good  education,  strong  consti- 
tution, freedom  from  physical  defects,  including  those 
of  sight  and  hearing,  and  unexceptionable  references. 
The  course  of  training  consists  in  dressing  wounds, 
applying  fomentations,  bathing  and  care  of  helpless 
patients,  making  beds,  and  managing  positions.  Then 
follow  the  preparation  and  application  of  bandages, 
making  rollers  and  linings  of  splints.  The  nurse  must 
also  learn  how  to  prepare,  cook,  and  serve  delicacies  for 


THE  PROFESSION   OF  NURSING.  173 

the  invalid.  Instruction  is  given  in  the  best  practical 
methods  of  supplying  fresh  air,  and  of  warming  and 
ventilating  the  sick  room.  In  order  to  remain  through 
the  two  years'  course  and  obtain  a  diploma,  still  more 
is  required,  viz:  Exemplary  deportment,  patience,  indus- 
try, and  obedience.  The  first  year's  experience  was  far 
from  satisfactory.  Among  seventy- three  applicants, 
hailing  from  the  various  States,  only  twenty- nine  were 
found  that  gave  promise  of  ability  to  fill  the  conditions. 
Of  these,  ten  were  dismissed  for  various  causes  before 
the  expiration  of  the  first  nine  months. 

The  "Nurses'  Home,"  the  headquarters  of  the  school, 
is  No.  426  East  Twenty -sixth  street,  a  large  and  hand- 
some building,  erected  for  the  purpose  and  given  to  the 
school  by  Mrs.  W.  H.  Osborn.  From  the  outside  of  this 
building  the  tastefully  arranged  curtains  and  polished 
panes  of  its  several  chambers  present  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  somber,  frowning  walls  of  the  great  charity  hospi- 
tal opposite.  Besides  studying  from  text-books,  and 
attending  a  systematic  course  of  lectures,  the  pupils  are 
occupied  by  the  care  of  the  patients  in  the  hospital,  and 
in  the  general  management  of  the  wards.  The  nurses 
are  taught  how  to  make  accurate  observations  and 
reports  of  symptoms  for  the  physicians'  use,  such  as 
state  of  pulse,  temperature,  appetite,  intelligence,  delir- 
ium or  stupor,  breathing,  sleep,  condition  of  wounds, 
effect  of  diet,  medicine,  or  stimulant.  The  nurses  are 
furnished  with  diplomas,  signed  by  the  managers  and 
the  examining  board  of  the  hospital,  when  they  begin 
their  several  careers.  Some  are  called  to  superintend 
State  and  city  hospitals,  a  continually  increasing  num- 


174  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

ber  seek  private  practice,  or  rather  are  sought  by  it, 
while  not  a  few  devote  themselves  to  the  sick  among 
the  poor. 

The  value  of  the  service  performed  by  these  noble 
women  can  not  be  adequately  estimated  without  visit- 
ing the  tenement-house  district  wherein  it  is  performed. 
They  lodge  in  a  house  provided  for  the  purpose  by  the 
Woman's  Branch  of  the  City  Missions,  by  which  tney 
are  supported,  and  are  to  New  York  what  the  "  District 
Nurses"  are  to  London.  From  early  morning  until 
evening  they  endure  fatigue,  heat,  cold,  and  storm,  in 
their  efforts  to  relieve  the  distressed.  Neither  the  gruff 
responses,  nor  the  ingratitude  of  those  for  whom  they 
toil,  have,  in  a  single  known  instance,  forced  them  to 
cease  their  work.  An  equally  zealous  person,  without 
the  advantages  of  a  nurse's  training,  would  fail  signally 
where  she  would  succeed.  For  the  mere  attendance  on 
the  invalid  is  not  the  whole  of  the  service  performed  by 
the  visiting  nurse.  She  sweeps  and  cleans  the  rooms, 
cooks  the  food,  does  the  washing,  if  necessary,  goes 
upon  errands — in  short,  takes  the  place  of  the  mother, 
if  she  be  ill.  All  this  has  been  learned  at  the  training 
school.  Neither  illness  nor  death  itself  can  appall  her: 
she  has  served  a  long  novitiate  in  nursing  the  one,  and 
the  other  has  long  since  lost  its  terrors. 

In  addition  to  this  field  in  New  York  City  and  vicin- 
ity, there  is  an  increasing  demand  throughout  the  coun- 
try for  experienced  nurses  to  take  charge  of  hospitals 
and  schools.  Graduates  of  the  Bellevue  school  have 
been  called  to  be  superintendents  of  the  nursing  depart- 
ments of  the  following  institutions:  Massachusetts  Gen- 


II 

THE   PROFESSION   OF   NURSING.  175 

eral  Hospital;  Boston  City  Hospital;  New  Haven  City 
Hospital;  New  York  Hospital;  Mt.  Sinai  Hospital,  New 
York  City;  Brooklyn  City  Hospital;  Cook  County  Hos- 
pital, Chicago;  St.  Luke's  Hospital,  Denver;  Charity 
Hospital,  New  Orleans,  and  the  Minneapolis  (Minn.) 
Hospital 

During  the  nine  years  of  the  Bellevue  Training  School 
for  Nurses  existence,  one  hundred  and  forty-nine  pupils 
have  received  diplomas,  seventy-eight  of  whom  are  now 
practicing  in  New  York  City. 

While  Miss  Nightingale's  theories  are  the  basis  of  the 
Training  School,  its  managers  have  found  it  necessary  to 
depart  from  the  English  system  in  some  important  partic- 
ulars. For  instance,  Miss  Nightingale  regards  it  as  indis- 
pensable that  the  superintendent  and  the  nurses  should 
live  within  the  hospital.  "Our  experience  is  the  reverse  of 
this,"  say  the  committee.  "American  women,  being  of  a 
sensitive,  nervous  organization,  are  at  first  depressed  by 
the  painful  aspects  of  hospital  life,  and,  when  they  become 
interested  in  the  work,  take  it  greatly  to  heart.  Hence 
it  is  of  importance  to  have  a  cheerful,  comfortable  home 
where  they  can  each  day  throw  off  the  cares  of  their  pro- 
fession." To  the  restfulness  of  the  Home  is  attributed 
the  exceptional  health  of  the  nurses,  among  whom  but 
one  death  and  very  few  dangerous  illnesses  have  occurred 
since  the  opening  of  the  school,  almost  ten  years  ago. 
Another  necessity  in  an  American  training  school  is  the 
abolition  of  caste.  In  England  the  "  ward  sister"  (who 
has  received  thorough  training)  is  expected  to  be  a  lady, 
superior  in  social  position  and  intelligence  to  the  nurses, 
who  are  drawn  from  the  class  of  domestic  servants.  At 


176  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Bellevue,  the  preliminary  examination,  and  the  high 
standard  subsequently  exacted,  exclude,  and  are  meant 
to  exclude  them.  But  among  those  who  enter  there  is 
no  distinction.  All  submit  to  the  same  discipline  and 
perform  the  same  duties,  none  of  which,  being  connected 
with  the  sick,  is  considered  menial. 

The  above  article  has  been  carefully  condensed  from 
an  exhaustive  account  of  the  system  as  practiced  at 
Bellevue,  which  was  published  by  the  Century  Maga- 
zine last  year.  Any  one  who  has  had  experience  with 
the  despotic  nurse  of  the  past,  the  stupid,  ignorant  and 
opiniated  woman  who,  in  her  superannuated  days,  goes 
out  nursing,  will  bless  the  present  innovation  whereby  a 
young,  strong,  educated  woman  is  placed  in  charge  of 
the  sick  patient.  The  new  professional  nurse  is  the  doc- 
tor's second,  and  can  determine  in  his  absence  what  to 
do  to  save  the  life  of  a  patient,  and  will  not  predict  the 
death  of  a  sick  person  if  a  dog  chances  to  howl  in  the 
neighborhood.  There  could  be  no  better  profession  for 
the  development  of  all  the  finest  and  most  womanly 
qualities,  or  one  in  which  the  laborer  is  more  worthy  of 
her  hire. 


T  is  a  matter  of  surprise  that  so  few 
American  women  attempt  to  earn  a 
living  in  this  way,  and  that  a  work 
that  is  both  pleasant  and  profitable 
should  be  left  almost  entirely  to 
the  foreign  born  population.  Every 
housewife  requires  the  change  of  occupation 
which  a  few  hours  of  gardening  every  day  in 
the  summer  would  give  her,  and  if  she  has  no 
desire  to  make  her  work  remunerative,  she 
can  add  a  greater  beauty  and  sweetness  to 
her  own  life  and  that  of  her  family,  by  fur- 
nishing them  with  flowers  which  she  raised 
with  her  own  hands,  or  increase  the  attrac- 
tions of  her  table  by  a  variety  of  good,  season- 
able vegetables  during  the  year.  She  will  also  improve 
her  health  by  the  amount  of  out  door  air  and  exercise 
the  work  will  require.  Gardening  is  a  delightful 
womanly  occupation,  cleanly  and  health-giving.  In 
this  country  the  soil  is  easily  tilled,  especially  im 
prairie  sections,  where  stones  are  so  rare  that  a  trav- 
eler, in  recording  their  scarcity,  said  that  when  bis  dog 
saw  one  he  stopped  and  barked  at  it.  There  are  many 


12 


177 


178  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

women  to  whom  a  garden  would  be  of  great  assistance, 
for  if  they  possess  a  plat  of  land  on  which  they  can  raise 
flowers  and  vegetables,  these  may  be  made  to  yield  them 
a  good  harvest.  For  instance,  if  they  live  within  easy 
reach  of  the  railway  depot  or  junction  where  passengers 
stop  to  partake  of  meals,  or  to  change  cars,  they  can 
find  a  ready  sale  for  small  boquets,  bunches  of  flowers 
|  tastefully  arranged,  or  button-hole  favors  at  five  or  ten 

,  cents  each.     The  tired  and  depressed  traveler  would  feel 

refreshed  and  cheered  by  the  bright  greeting  of  the 
lovely  apostles  of  Flora,  and  the  gardener  would  realize 
a  capital  for  her  labor.  There  are  numerous  stations  in 
New  England  where  little  bare-footed  boys  sell  small 
bunches  of  arbutus  and  fragrant  clusters  of  pond 
lilies,  and  often  realize  enough  money  to  clothe  them- 
selves in  winter. 

Gardening  is  an  occupation  particularly  well  adapted 
to  women,  as  it  offers  a  healthy  employment  in  which 
delicacy  of  touch,  judgment,  calculation  and  expectation 
are  all  realized  without  an  undue  amount  of  bodily  labor. 
Nature  must  be  waited  upon,  encouraged,  directed  and 
watched,  to  produce  a  full  development  of  her  powers; 
and  there  is  a  growing  tendency  to  elevate  the  work  of 
the  gardener,  and  to  present  an  attractive  and  interest- 
ing field  for  woman's  skill  and  enterprise  in  this  direc- 
tion. There  are  many  ladies  who  devote  their  time  in 
spring  and  summer  to  the  cultivation  of  flowers  and  fruit 
in  the  garden,  and  in  winter  take  a  great  deal  of  interest 
in  their  conservatories  and  greenhouses,  in  directing  and 
overseeing  their  gardens,  or  take  the  charge  themselves, 
1  and  find  great  enjoyment,  as  well  as  health,  in  the  occu- 


GAKDENING.  179 

pation.  This  pursuit  surely  presents  many  attractions 
to  those  who  are  forced  to  depend  upon  the  work  of 
their  own  hands  for  subsistence,  and  it  would  be  far 
more  desirable  than  constant,  sedentary  employment 
such  as  sewing.  With  the  flowers  early  vegetables 
could  also  be  raised  and  sold  to  advantage.  In  the 
vicinity  of  cities  and  towns  a  market  for  such  com- 
modities can  always  be  found;  the  supply  rarely  exceeds 
the  demand.  It  has  been  said  that  flowers  will  grow 
better  under  the  kindly  care  of  women,  and  a  widow  or 
single  lady,  living  alone,  could  invest  a  very  small  sum 
of  money  in  bedding  out  plants,  annuals,  vegetables,  and 
fruits,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  a  boy  of  all-work, 
make  quite  a  tolerable  support.  Most  women  to  whom 
such  a  life  would  be  agreeable  and  desirable,  possess 
enough  strength  to  attend  to  the  work  of  superintend- 
ing and  directing  matters,  and  a  boy  could  do  the  dig- 
ging, weeding,  and  watering.  In  England  there  are 
already  hundreds  of  women  at  work  in  nurseries  and 
greenhouses,  and  they  do  all  the  grafting,  budding,  and 
repotting  of  plants,  with  quite  as  much  skill  in  the  hand- 
ling of  them  as  the  male  operatives  possess. 

At  the  present  time  flowers  are  more  sought  after  than 
ever  before,  and  if  women  would  become  more  skilled  in 
floriculture  they  would  soon  find  a  large  field  for  their 
labors.  The  gains  of  women  gardeners  would  be  of  more 
account  than  those  of  seamstresses  and  shop-girls.  Of 
course  there  is  work  in  it.  I  have  yet  to  see  the  occupa- 
tion that  pays  which  does  not  demand  head  or  hand 
labor.  But  the  work  can  be  so  arranged  as  to  leave  the 
hottest  hours  of  the  day  for  rest  and  leisure.  It  is  really 


180  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

surprising  that  this  branch  of  labor  has  not  been  adopted 
by  woman  for  profit  long  ago,  as  so  many  ladies  devote 
so  much  of  their  time  to  it  for  their  own  gratification. 
In  Germany  and  Switzerland  women  are  now  taught  the 
culture  of  flowers  as  a  profession,  and  many  women  are 
earning  their  living  as  gardeners,  not  only  at  their  own 
homes,  but  in  the  employment  of  others.  Doubtless 
there  are  many  young  women  who  would  find  in  the 
garden  not  only  the  natural  roses  which  bloom  there, 
but  the  roses  of  health  with  which  to  adorn  their  cheeks. 
Such  an  instance  recurs  to  the  memory  of  the  writer. 
A  few  years  ago  a  young  girl  who  appeared  to  be  fatally 
ill  with  consumption  went  to  live  with  some  friends  in 
the  country,  and  amused  herself  in  her  moments  of  tem- 
porary strength  by  playing  with  the  children  at  making 
garden.  In  a  little  while  she  found  the  health-giving 
properties  of  air  and  exercise,  and  gradually  her  lungs 
recovered.  She  gained  flesh,  and  to-day  she  is  a  robust 
woman,  and  she  declares  that  a  spade  was  her  doctor. 
She  is  one  of  the  most  successful  gardeners  in  Ohio  at 
the  present  time. 

A   STRAWBERRY    FARM. 

Strawberries  offer  another  excellent  avenue  to  money- 
making  for  women.  An  acre  of  strawberries  will  yield 
from  1,200  to  2,000  quarts.  The  yield  will  never  be  less, 
and  it  is  often  much  more.  In  a  fair  season  an  acre  of 
strawberry  farm  will  pay  a  net  profit  of  from  $150  to 
$175  per  acre.  The  first  berries  command  a  ready  mar- 
ket at  $1  a  quart;  but  at  an  average  of  ten  cents  a  quart 
from  first  to  last,  the  farm  will  pay  its  owner  hand- 


GARDENING.  181 

somely.  Twenty  acres  of  strawberries  in  the  State  of 
Georgia  brought  in  $1,300  in  cash  to  its  owner,  by  the 
middle  of  April,  and  at  that  date  the  season  had  only 
begun,  as  the  North  is  still  in  the  embrace  of  winter  at 
that  time.  The  price  then  was  thirty  cents  a  quart. 
Speculators  visit  strawberry  farms  both  North  and  South, 
and  offer  a  certain  sum  per  quart  for  the  berries  on  the 
vines,  which  pays  the  owner  a  handsome  sum  without 
the  lifting  of  a  hand.  A  lady  who  lives  in  a  home  of 
luxury  in  Freeport,  111.,  made  a  handsome  fortune  out  of 
strawberries.  She  kept  a  man  to  work  the  farm,  hired 
children  to  pick  the  berries,  and  took  orders  from  com- 
mission houses  and  families  herself,  not  disdaining  to 
deliver  the  berries  from  her  own  carriage  or  wagon,  both 
of  which  she  handled  herself.  In  the  South,  strawberries 
pay  better  than  cotton  for  women  to  handle,  and  in  the 
North  the  home  berry  is  in  excellent  demand  when  the 
l  Southern  season  is  over.  The  business  is  both  a  plea- 
sant and  remunerative  one,  and  essentially  a  feminine 
occupation. 

In  regard  to  the  labor  of  gardening,  a  forcible  writer, 
in  speaking  of  the  Dutch,  Flemish,  and  German  women, 
who  help  the  husbands  and  fathers  in  the  field,  says: 

"The  women  positively  delight  in  this  free,  active  and 
nomadic  life,  and  one  of  the  chief  charms  was  the  astonish- 
ing health  and  strength  they  attained.  Their  limbs  became 
muscular,  they  had  the  digestion  of  ostriches,  and  aches  and 
pains  were  unknown  to  them;  they,  in  fact,  enjoyed  the  most 
exquisite  of  all  human  sensations,  perfect  health.  How  many 
American  women  enjoy  that  for  even  five  years  after  they  are  six- 
teen. If  the  labor  is  not  excessive  it  is  desirable.  It  produces 


182  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

I 

the  strong,  hardy  women  who  rear  a  stalwart  race.     Half  the 

,  fine  ladies  who  now  find  a  few  turns  on  the  piazza  almost  too 

much  for  them,  would  be  all  the  better  for  a  graduated  scale  of 
garden  work.  Beginning  with  a  quarter  of  an  hour  a  day,  they 
would  find  at  the  close  of  a  month  that  they  could  easily  do 
their  two  hours,  and  that  they  ate  and  slept  as  they  had  never 
done  before,  while  they  forgot  that  any  such  evils  as  nerves  had 
an  existence." 

WHAT   ONE   WOMAN   DID. 

i 

Pour  years  ago  Miss  Belle  Clinton,  of  Nevada,  Story 
county,  Northwestern  Iowa,  was  a  school  teacher  full  of 
life,  health,  fun,  and  enterprise,  rosy  of  cheek  and  sturdy 
of  limb,  quite  too  full  of  health  and  vigor  to  sit  down 
contentedly  and  day  by  day  teach  the  young  idea  how 
to  shoot,  at  so  much  a  head,  so  she  concluded  to  do 
something  that  would  bring  in  more  money,  and  at 
the  same  time  furnish  more  scope  for  her  powers,  and 
what  she  did  do  can  not  be  better  told  than  in  her  own 
straightforward  way: 

"I  saved  $160  from  the  money  I  earned  teaching  school,  bor- 
rowed a  span  of  horses  from  my  father,  rigged  up  a  prairie 
schooner,  and  started  with  my  little  brother  for  Dakota.  I 
never  had  such  a  good  time  in  my  life,  or  such  an  appetite,  and 
everybody  was  polite  and  pleasant  to  me.  I  received  the  utmost 
courtesy  everywhere.  Rough,  rude  men  would  come  to  our 
camp,  and  after  I  had  talked  to  them  awhile  offer  to  build  my 
fire,  and  actually  bring  water  to  me.  We  went  up  through  the 
wheat  country,  which  they  call  the  Jim  River  country.  It  is 
about  one  hundred  miles  east  from  the  Missouri  Fort  Sully.  I 
homesteaded  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  land.  Then  I  took 
up  a  timber  claim  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  acres  more,  and 


GARDENING.  183 

with  the  help  of  a  hired  man  set  out  ten  acres  of  trees.  This 
gave  me  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  more,  so  I  have  three  hun- 
dred and  twenty  acres  now.  The  trees  wert  young  locust  and 
apple  and  black  walnut  sprouts.  I  sowed  a  peck  of  locust 
beans,  a  pint  of  apple  seed,  and  two  bushels  of  black  walnuts  in 
our  garden,  in  Iowa  one  year  before.  These  sprouts  were  little 
fellows,  and  we  could  set  them  out  just  as  fast  as  we  could  get 
them  into  the  ground.  I  believe  my  three  thousand  little  black 
walnut  sprouts  will  be  worth  fifteen  dollars  apiece  in  ten  years, 
and  twenty  dollars  apiece  in  fifteen  years.  My  locust  trees  will 
sometime  fence  the  whole  country. 

"  Next  we  built  a  shanty  and  broke  up  five  acres  of  land,  and 
in  the  fall  we  returned  to  Iowa  to  spend  the  winter.  In  the 
spring  I'll  go  back  with  more  black  walnut  and  locust  sprouts, 
and  take  up  another  claim  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres.  The 
trees  are  just  what  I  wan  to  plant  anyway,  and  they  will  pay 
better  than  any  wheat  crops  that  could  be  raised,  only  I  must 
wait  for  them  ten  or  twelve  years;  but  I  can  wait." 

Miss  Clinton  is  a  girl  of  twenty  years,  and  in  her  own 
right  owns  three  hundred  and  twenty  acres  of  splendid 
black  prairie  soil  now,  and  will  own  in  the  spring  four 
hundred  and  eighty  acres,  every  acre  of  which  will  bring 
five  dollars  within  three  years,  and  ten  dollars  within 
h've  years,  and  twenty  dollars  within  ten  years.  Her 
black  walnut  and  locust  trees  will  be  worth  as  much 
more.  The  prospect  is,  that  at  thirty  years  of  age  this 
young  lady  will  be  worth  twenty-five  thousand  dollars, 
the  fruit  of  her  own  enterprise,  labor,  and  indomitable 
courage.  What  woman  has  done  woman  may  do,  and 
Miss  Clinton  has  positively  illustrated  the  saying,  "  that 
where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way." 


184  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

YOUNG    WOMEN   INVESTING   IN   LAND   IN   DAKOTA. 

A  young  widow  who  came  to  Lisbon,  Dakota,  took  a 
pre-emption  claim  to  160  acres,  proved  up  and  got  a  title 
to  her  land,  then  took  another  claim  under  the  home- 
stead law  of  160  acres  more,  on  which  she  is  now  living; 
and  as  the  possessor  of  320  acres  of  the  richest  soil  in 
this  country,  she  is,  of  course,  considered  worth  a  hand- 
some fortune  in  her  own  right. 

In  Lisbon  not  a  few  working  girls  have  taken  up 
claims,  and  intend  to  cultivate  them  by  contract;  prob- 
ably any  one  of  them  could  realize  from  $500  to  $750 
each  for  their  land.  One  young  lady,  who  is  clerking  in 
one  of  the  stores  in  town,  is  the  possessor  of  a  number  of 
town  lots,  in  addition  to  several  quarter  sections  of  land. 
The  land  is  worth  probably  $25  an  acre,  but  she  came 
into  possession  of  it  by  taking  advantage  of  the  pre-emp- 
tion, homestead,  and  tree  claim  laws.  Her  town  lots 
were  bought  when  prices  were  low,  from  the  proceeds  of 
her  salary,  and  have  now  advanced  to  nearly  ten  times 
the  price  she  paid  for  them.  Another  young  lady,  who 
took  up  a  pre-emption  claim  last  fall,  has  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  that  a  railroad  survey  has  since  been 
made  across  it,  and  it  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  she 
may  yet  become  the  owner  of  a  town  site  worth  from 
$50,000  to  $100,000.  It  is  a  very  poor  town  site  that  is 
not  worth  the  former  sum,  250  lots  at  $200  each  making 
that  amount.  A  quarter  section  of  land  will  make  about 
600  ordinary  town  lots,  allowing  for  streets  and  avenues. 


1®    •    • 

r\eusir)er 


DOES    POULTRY  PAY? 


F  proper  care  is  taken  of  poultry 
there  is  no  doubt  that  it  pays.    No 
business    can    be    made   profitable 
without  careful  attention.     A  great 
many   people    feed    their    poultry 
regularly,  but  neglect  to  give  them 
drink,  and  then  say  that  it  does  not  pay  to 
keep  poultry. 

"The  best  drink,"  says  an  author  on  the 
subject,  "that  can  be  furnished  for  hens,  is 
sour  milk,  and,  if  possible,  it  should  always 
be  by  them.  Scraps  of  meat,  fish  skins,  etc., 
are  excellent  for  fowls.  Do  not  feed  on  clear 
corn  or  meal,  but  vary  their  food  as  much  as 
possible.  In  the  summer  feed  once  a  day,  but 
in  the  winter  give  them  a  second  feed  just  before  they 
go  to  roost.  Always  give  just  what  they  will  eat  up 
clean.  Hens  fed  this  way  will  lay  all  winter  if  they  are 
of  the  right  breed.  The  Brown  Leghorn  hens  will  lay 
all  the  year  round.  Brahmas  are  also  excellent. 

Mrs.  Eliza  Twynham  has  a  flock  of  fourteen  hens,  and 


186  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

during  last  summer  sold  twenty-five  dollars  worth  of 
eggs  and  raised  a  flock  of  chickens.  Her  hens  have 
proper  care,  and  they  well  repay  it.  This  is  keeping 
poultry  on  a  small  scale,  but  if  the  lady  went  into  the 
business  she  would  make  it  pay  handsomely.  The  eggs 
of  fancy  fowls  sell  at  $3  a  dozen  for  breeding  purposes, 
so  that  more  money  is  realized  in  keeping  a  small  num- 
ber of  a  choice  breed.  They  will  require  a  little  more 
care,  but  will  amply  repay  the  trouble.  The  owners  of 
fancy  hens  often  sell  their  eggs  to  neighbors  at  an  ordi- 
nary p7  ice — 25  cents  a  dozen — but  they  first  dip  them  in 
boiling  water  to  prevent  inculation,  should  there  be  any 
deception  in  the  matter. 

It  is  quite  a  curiosity  to  visit  one  of  those  fancy  hen 
farms,  which  are  frequent  in  all  the  States,  and  often 
kept  up  with  great  care,  and  even  elegance.  Their 
houses  are  heated,  ventilated,  provided  with  all  patent 
appliances  for  their  comfort,  and  kept  in  apple  pie 
order.  They  have  stairs  by  which  they  ascend  to  their 
roost,  and  they  are  provided  with  a  court  yard,  in  which 
they  can  enjoy  the  air  and  sun  light.  These  three  things 
fowls  must  have,  if  they  would  thrive — air,  light,  and 
exercise.  They  must  not  only  be  kept  free  from  chicken 
lice,  but  their  flesh,  if  they  are  to  be  sold,  must  be  of 
fine  quality.  While  the  eggs  of  fancy  fowls  pay  the 
largest  profit,  the  flesh  of  the  ordinary  yellow-legged 
barnyard  fowl  can  not  be  improved  upon.  Much  judg- 
ment must  be  used  by  people  who  sell  fowls  for  market, 
if  they  wish  to  gain  a  reputation  for  their  poultry.  Cock- 
erels, pullets,  and  fat  laying  hens  are  good  marketable 
wares,  but  a  hen  that  has  just  thrown  off  a  brood,  or  is 


RAISING  POULTRY.  187 

ready  to  go  on  a  nest  of  eggs,  is  not  in  condition  for  the 
table.  Any  one  living  near  a  large  city  can  get  high 
prices  for  early  spring  chickens,  a  pair  of  them  being 
worth  $1.50  in  February  or  March,  and  commanding  a 
high  price  all  the  season. 

MONEY    IN    EGGS. 

The  time  has  come  when  the  business  of  egg-produc- 
tion will  take  a  fixed  place  among  the  food  industries  of 
the  country.  Eggs  are  a  healthy  and  nourishing  substi- 
tute for  meat,  and  are  generally  cheaper  in  proportion  to 
their  nutritive  qualities.  It  is  estimated  that  the  annual 
production  in  the  United  States  amounts  to  9,000,000,000, 
of  which  2, 500, 000, 000  are  sent  to  New  York.  Great  Brit- 
ain imports  785,000,000  eggs  from  the  continent.  They 
represent  the  value  of  12,500,000  more,  while  Ireland  fur- 
nishes 500,000,000  in  addition,  and  the  home  production 
is  nearly  equal  to  the  importation  from  the  continent. 
The  business  of  poultry  raising  is  a  safe  and  pleasant 
one — safe  in  a  pecuniary  way,  because  there  is  a  very 
small  amount  of  capital  invested,  and  pleasant,  because 
it  gives  woman  what  she  needs,  a  healthy  out-door  exer- 
cise. Three  dozen  good  common  fowls  will  furnish  the 
stock  in  trade  to  start  with,  and  a  clean,  dry,  comfort- 
able shed,  with  nooks  and  corners  for  them  to  lay  in, 
will  answer  as  well,  if  not  better,  than  a  patent  hen 
house  with  sanded  floor,  where  the  hens  go  up  a  flight 
of  stairs  to  bed,  and  lay  their  eggs  in  nests  as  fine  as 
jewel  boxes.  Get  both  hens  and  advice  from  a  success- 
ful poultry  raiser,  and  be  careful  of  having  too  fine  poul- 
try for  the  purpose  of  selling  eggs  as  an  article  of  diet. 


188  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

No  eater  can  discriminate  between  boiled  eggs  at  three 
dollars  a  dozen  and  boiled  eggs  at  twenty -five  cents  a 
dozen,  if  both  are  fresh;  the  money  lies  in  the  breed, 
which  is  a  matter  of  fancy  rather  than  of  fact,  and  the 
three  dollar  a  dozen  eggs  cost  fifty  cents  apiece  to  raise 
them  often,  high-bred  fowls  being  so  delicate  they  are 
apt  to  catch  cold  if  they  get  their  feet  wet.  With  the 
barnyard  fowl  it  is  a  different  affair;  it  keeps  itself  in 
fine  flesh  by  running  after  its  grub;  it  has  settled 
domestic  habits,  and  is  not  inclined  to  be  sick  and  ail- 
ing, and  it  lays  a  large,  good  looking  egg  that  is  both 
sweet  and  rich.  During  the  fall  season  hens  that  run  at 
large  have  the  grain  fields  to  glean  from,  and  the  flesh  of 
such  fowls  is  superior  to  any  cake-fed  birds.  There  is 
money  made  from  the  incubator,  but  machine  raised 
birds  are  inferior  to  the  mother-hatched,  and  weaken  as 
they  grow  to  maturity,  and  the  whole  business  is  a 
trouble  and  often  a  serious  loss,  although  some  few  are 
successful  in  producing  a  delicate  article  of  spring 
chicken.  It  is  easy  to  experiment  in  this  business, 
which  can  be  carried  on  without  interfering  in  domes- 
tic duties  or  other  work.  The  following  brief  sketch 
may  be  of  interest  to  those  who  contemplate  going  into 
that  branch  of  speculation. 

TWO   WOMEN    IN   BUSINESS. 

"In  the  spring  of  1876,"  writes  Miss  Helen  Wilmane, 
"finding  myself  in  a  position  where  it  was  necessary  to 
make  some  exertion  for  my  own  living,  and  being  also 
averse  to  the  kind  of  work  usually  delegated  to  my  sex, 
I  formed  a  partnership  with  another  woman  whose  situ- 


RAISING  POULTRY.  189 

ation  was  similar  to  my  own,  and  we  went  into  the  poul- 
try business  together. 

"After  we  had  decided  what  we  wished  to  do,  it  required 
a  vigorous  looking  about  to  find  the  place  we  wanted. 
But  we  did  find  it  on  the  banks  of  Clear  Lake,  well  up 
towards  the  northern  boundary.  A  farmer  who  occu- 
pied a  large  tract  of  land,  and  had  built  a  fine  house 
near  the  center  of  it,  left  his  old  one  standing  in  an  iso- 
lated corner,  the  picture  of  loneliness  and  despair,  as 
seen  through  the  eyes  of  the  rich,  but  a  very  haven  of 
rest  for  two  tempest-tossed  and  homeless  women  such  as 
we  were.  And  then,  too,  it  was  on  the  banks  of  the 
lake,  a  fact  that  made  amends  for  many  disadvantages. 
Oh!  that  lake,  thirty  miles  long  and  ten  miles  wide,  dot- 
ted with  evergreen  islands !  It  comes  back  to  me  now 
like  the  memory  of  a  lost  Paradise ! 

Behold  us,  then,  settled  with  one  hundred  hens,  fif- 
teen ducks,  and  a  dozen  turkeys,  Mr.  Worth  trusted 
us  with  a  ton  of  wheat,  and  we  were  equipped.  The 
ducks  took  to  the  water,  where  they  seemed  to  earn 
their  own  living,  as  they  treated  our  store  of  provisions 
with  contempt.  They  waddled  home  every  night  to  be 
shut  up,  and  we  found  their  eggs  in  the  pen  every  morn- 
ing. We  sold  our  hens  eggs  and  set  our  hens  on  duck 
eggs.  As  we  kept  an  account  of  all  our  transactions,  I 
will  now  refer  to  my  book,  which  I  still  keep  in  remem- 
brance of  some  of  the  happiest  days  of  my  life. 

"  I  find  that  on  March  twentieth  we  had  forty  hens 
sitting  on  ten  eggs  each — four  hundred  eggs  in  all — with 
seventeen  young  ducks  hatched  out.  On  April  twen- 
tieth we  had  thirty-six  hens  sitting  on  ten  eggs  each, 


190  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

three  hundred  and  twenty-seven  nice,  healthy  young 
ducks.  A  month  later  we  closed  out  the  duck  factory, 
with  five  hundred  and  thirty  small  fry  on  hand. 

"  Nothing  gives  me  more  pleasure  than  to  see  things 
grow — living  animals  more  especially.  Our  little  ducks 
were  a  perpetual  study  to  us.  Many  of  them  were  indi- 
vidualized by  special  characteristics,  so  much  so  that  we 
named  them  accordingly.  I  am  sure  we  brought  little 
science  to  bear  on  our  poultry  raising,  but  we  made  a 
very  fair  success  of  it.  We  lived  comfortably  and  hap- 
pily, and  realized  nearly  three  hundred  dollars  when  we 
sold  off  our  surplus  stock  in  the  fall.  We  thought  it 
much  better  than  taking  positions  in  establishments  not 
our  own.  We  were  free,  and  we  appreciated  the  situa- 
tion. And  then  the  occupation  itself  was  full  of  interest. 
Never  a  day  passed  that  we  did  not  find  something  to 
laugh  at  amongst  our  numerous  family. 

"We  carried  our  poultry  through  another  year,  and 
with  still  greater  success.  We  would  probably  be 
engaged  in  it  yet  but  for  a  male  biped,  who,  perceiving 
how  well  my  partner  could  live  without  him,  made  the 
discovery  that  he  could  not  live  without  her.  This  dis- 
solved our  partnership,  and  terminated  a  never-to-be-for- 
gotten period  of  my  life." 

Geese  are  abundantly  raised  in  the  suburbs  of  cities  by 
the  foreign  population.  They  are  noisy  birds,  and  must 
be  within  easy  reach  of  water.  Their  feathers  are  more 
valuable  than  their  flesh  in  this  country,  where  the  tur- 
key is  the  favorite  of  the  table.  The  last  is  a  very  pro- 
fitable fowl,  but  difficult  to  raise.  Eternal  vigilance  is 
the  price  of  turkeys.  The  young  die  on  the  slightest 


RAISING  POULTRY.  191 

provocation,  and  the  mother-bird  is  a  very  poor  protec- 
tor of  her  young.  The  larger  the  flock  the  safer  the 
birds,  and  the  more  probability  that  the  young  will 
grow  to  maturity.  They  require  a  good  deal  of  food, 
carefully  prepared.  Tender  greens  and  Indian  meal, 
wet  up  in  a  mass  and  crumbled  to  them,  are  fattening. 
They  should  be  June  birds  to  be  in  good  order  at  Thanks- 
giving. They  like  a  hot,  dry  season. 

Pigeons,  if  kept  in  large  quantities,  are  profitable,  as 
they  are  always  in  demand  in  the  markets.  They  will 
range  with  the  fowls  at  feeding  time,  and  cost  little  or 
nothing  to  keep.  Ducks  are  troublesome,  but  they  pay 
very  well  for  their  keep.  They  must  be  raised  near  a 
large  pond,  or  they  will  stray  off  in  search  of  water.  It 
is  just  as  well  to  keep  all  the  different  varieties  of  poul- 
try, as  one  will  create  a  market  for  another.  But  hens 
are  in  demand  all  the  year  round;  ducks,  geese,  and  tur- 
keys only  at  the  holidays  and  during  the  winter  season. 
A  woman  who  will  make  a  specialty  of  sending  choice, 
well-dressed,  dry-picked  poultry  to  market,  can  not  fail 
to  make  a  handsome  profit  out  of  her  work,  which  is  a 
sphere  of  labor  pre-eminently  suited  to  her  domestic 
tastes. 

A  compiler  of  industrial  statistics  has  this  to  say  con- 
cerning poultry: 

VALUE    OF   THE    POULTRY   BUSINESS. 

"  Every  business  that  increases  national  wealth  and  promotes 
individual  comfort  and  prosperity  possesses  an  interest  to  the 
philanthropic  commensurate  to  its  importance.  It  is  imprac- 
ticable for  census  reports  to  fairly  represent  every  industry. 
Should  it  be  done  in  the  simple  matter  of  poultry  and  eggs,  the 


WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

figures  would  astonish  those  who  have  given  the  subject  only  a 
mere  passing  thought.  I  am  certain  that  the  value  and  import- 
ance of  the  poultry  business,  as  a  source  of  national  wealth,  has 
not  been  fully  appreciated.  Judging  from  the  census  reports  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  I  am  led  to  believe  that  the  actual  value 
of  poultry  in  the  United  States  is  scarcely  realized. 

"There  can  be  but  little  if  any  less  than  3,000,000  farmers 
families  in  the  United  States  that  keep  poultry — hens  simply. 
It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  on  an  average  each  family  keeps 
at  least  10  hens,  and  that  each  hen  lays  100  eggs  annually. 
This  would  give  an  aggregate  of  250,000,000  dozen  eggs,  which, 
at  a  net  valuation  of  10  cents  a  dozen  to  the  producer,  would 
make  the  net  proceeds  to  the  farmers  $35,000,000!  Does  this 
startle  the  reader  ? 

"  In  New  York  alone,  twelve  years  ago,  the  census  report  set 
down  the  actual  value  of  poultry  at  $3,000,000.  The  city  of 
Boston,  according  to  statistics,  expended  for  eggs  in  1869 
$2,000,000,  and  for  poultry  the  same  year  $3,000,000,  making  the 
enormous  sum  of  $5,000,000  expended  in  a  third-class  city  for 
poultry  and  eggs.  I  have  no  doubt  but  the  estimate  of  $25,- 
000,000  for  eggs  is  a  low  one,  while  that  of  poultry  sold  would 
swell  the  amount  of  the  poultry  interest  to  more  than  $250,- 
000,000.  And  this  refers  to  hens  alone.  The  additional  amount 
in  geese,  turkeys,  ducks,  guinea  fowls  and  pigeons  I  will  not 
attempt  to  consider." 


SUITABLE  EMPLOYMENT  FOB  WOMElf. 
"Oh!  the  transporting,  rapturous  scene, 

That  rises  to  our  sight! 
Sweet  fields  arrayed  in  living  green, 

And  rivers  of  delight! 
There  generous  bloom  in  all  the  dales 
And  mountain  sides  will  grow, 

There  rocks  aud  hills,  and  brooks  and  vales 
With  milk  and  Jwrtey  flow." 

If  I  follow  the  wild  bee  home, 
And  fell  with  a  ringing  stroke 

The  popular  shaft  of  the  oak, 
What  shall  I  taste  in  the  comb 

'And  the  honey  that  fills  the  comb? 

EE-KEEPING,  although  a  laborious 
employment,  demands  no  great  out- 
lay of  strength  at  one  time.     It  embraces 
the  performance  of  many  little  items,  which 
require  skill  and  gentleness,  more  than  mus- 
cle.    The  hand  of  woman,  from  nature,  habit, 
and  education,  has  acquired  an  ease  of  motion 
which  is  agreeable  to  the  sensibilities  of  bees, 
and  her  breath  is  seldom  obnoxious  to  their 
olfactories,  by  reason  of  tobacco  or  beer. 

Women  have  demonstrated  that  the  making 
of  hives  and  surplus  boxes  is  no  objection,  as 
they  have  purchased  them  in  the  flat,  nailed  and  painted 

13  193 


194  WHAT    CAN    A    "WOMAN    DO. 

them.  The  hiving  of  swarms  is  neither  more  difficult 
nor  dangerous  than  the  washing  of  windows  or  milking. 
The  right  time  to  extract  honey,  or  to  put  on,  or  take  off 
surplus  boxes,  requires  no  more  tact  or  skill  to  deter- 
mine than  the  proper  fermentation  of  bread,  or  the  right 
temperature  of  the  oven  required  for  baking.  Woman  is 
in  her  allotted  sphere  while  raising  queens  and  nursing 
weak  colonies,  or  caring  for  the  honey  when  off  the  hive. 

The  most  powerful  argument  in  view  of  the  suitable- 
ness of  bee-keeping  for  woman  is  this:  That  it  is  some- 
thing she  can  do  at  home,  and  not  interfere  with  her 
domestic  duties.  Many  women  of  small  means  have 
young  children  depending  upon  their  exertions  for  sup- 
port, and  remunerative  work  to  be  performed  at  home 
brings  very  little  in  the  market  of  to-day.  For  instance, 
the  making  of  overalls  at  five  cents  a  pair,  and  shirts  at 
fifty  cents  per  dozen.  She  is  compelled  to  accept  less 
pay  than  men  for  the  same  service  performed.  We  had  a 
friend,  chosen  as  principal  of  a  school  on  account  of  her 
efficiency,  but  who  was  compelled  to  accept  lower  wages 
than  her  predecessor,  who  was  a  man,  and  dismissed  for 
his  incompetency.  But  we  have  never  found  a  dealer 
unscrupulous  enough  to  offer  less  for  a  pound  of  honey, 
because  it  was  produced  by  a  woman. 

To  engage  in  bee-keeping  as  a  business,  it  is  necessary 
to  understand  the  nature  and  wants  of  the  honey-bee, 
and  a  knowledge  of  its  management.  This  may  be 
obtained  in  theory,  by  a  study  (not  merely  a  reading)  of 
all  the  standard  works  extant,  and  journals  devoted  to 
the  science  of  bee  culture.  Add  to  this  the  practical  use 
of  the  knowledge  obtained  in  some  large  apiary  for  a  year 

: 
i 


BEE   KEEPING  195 

or  two,  if  possible,  and  then  you  will  be  prepared  to  look 
for  a  location  (as  the  young  M.  D.  would  say).  "  Do  not 
try  to  build  up  by  crowding  out  some  one  already  estab- 
lished; there  is  room  enough  for  all  the  bee-keepers  of 
the  United  States  for  some  time  to  come." 

If  surplus  honey  be  the  object  sought,  get  the  very 
best  unoccupied  field,  if  possible,  where  soft  maple,  red 
raspberry,  white  clover  and  basswood  abound,  without 
special  reference  to  railroad  facilities.  If  the  rearing 
and  sale  of  superior  colonies  and  queens  be  the  object  in 
view,  mail  and  railroad  facilities  are  very  important. 

Thus  armed  and  equipped  as  the  law  directs,  a  few 
hundred  dollars  may  be  invested  in  bees,  with  better 
prospect  of  satisfactory  returns,  than  an  equal  amount 
in  almost  any  other  direction. 

There  are  many  successful  apiarists  in  this  country 
who  are  women,  and  their  number  is  yearly  increasing. 
It  is  a  healthful  and  delightful  pursuit,  and  every  woman 
who  engages  in  it,  with  some  knowledge  of  the  habits  of 
bees,  and  the  method  of  taking  care  of  them,  will  be 
fully  rewarded  for  her  trouble  by  a  fair  measure  of  pecu- 
niary success.  There  is  no  prettier  sight  than  the  long 
rows  of  bee  hives  back  of  the  farm  house,  flanked  by  a 
shady  orchard,  and  occupied  by  a  busy  community  of 
these  little  artistic  workers,  whose  industry  is  a  watch- 
word in  the  ranks  of  humanity,  and  who  do  their  work 
by  instinct  so  much  better  than  many  human  workers  do 
theirs  by  the  higher  gift  of  intellect.  There  is  so  much  to 
observe  about  these  little  people  that  she  would  be  a  dull 
scholar  who  did  not  find  many  a  lesson  to  study  and 
remember  in  watching  their  wonderful  system,  their 


196  WHAT   CAN  A    WOMAN  DO. 

strict  discipline,  industry,  and  the  exquisite  delicacy  of 
their  work,  their  allegiance  to  their  queen,  and  the 
remarkable  instincts  which  govern  them  in  their  busy 
hives.  Bees  are  no  longer  a  primitive  people.  They 
are  educated  now  and  surrounded  with  the  energetic 
contrivances  of  civilization. 

PROGRESSIVE    BEE    CULTURE — PAST,     PRESENT,     AND 
PROSPECTIVE. 

Scientific  bee-culture  may  properly  be  said  in  this 
country  to  be  confined  to  the  last  thirty  years.  The  first 
bees  in  America  were  imported  into  Pennsylvania  about 
the  year  1627.  We  also  have  accounts  of  bees  being 
brought  from  England  to  New  York  and  Virginia  about 
the  year  1685.  From  that  time  forward  they  have  been 
disseminated  to  every  part  of  the  United  States  and  Can- 
ada. Until  the  last  twenty  years  all  these  were  of  the  Ger- 
man or  black  variety.  Until  1851  they  were  kept  in  the 
loggum,  box-hive,  or  straw-skep.  The  hives  were  gen- 
erally set  in  some  out-of-the-way  place,  and  but  little 
attention  given  them,  except  at  swarming  or  robbing 
time.  The  weak  ones  were  often  brimstoned  in  the  fall, 
and  the  little  honey  they  had  was  about  tl^e  only  sur- 
plus the  owner  obtained.  Sometimes  a  cap  of  twenty  or 
thirty  pounds  of  white  honey  taken  from  the  strongest 
colonies  was  considered  quite  an  acquisition.  The  man 
who  could  protect  himself  in  veil  and  gauntlets,  envelop 
himself  in  smoke,  and  then  approach  a  hive  in  early 
morning,  burst  off  the  top,  and  cut  out  thirty  or  forty 
pounds  of  honey,  was  considered  quite  a  bee  man. 

In  the  year  1851,  the  Rev.  L.  L.  Langstroth  invented 


BEE   KEEPING.  197 

the  movable  comb  hive,  which  bears  his  name.  About 
the  same  time  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dzierzon,  of  Germany,  also 
made  a  similar  invention  in  Europe.  From  that  time 
forward  an  entirely  new  era  in  bee-culture  was  inaugur- 
ated, both  in  the  Old  World  and  the  New.  Discovery 
after  discovery  in  the  natural  history  of  the  honey  bee 
was  made,  and  as  truth  gradually  came  to  the  light, 
superstition  was  dissipated,  and  instead  of  a  "venom- 
tipped  warrior,"  always  ready  for  fight,  bees  were  found 
susceptible  of  education  and  control,  the  same  as  other 
farm  stock.  Colonies  were  not  only  increased  at  pleas- 
ure by  this  system,  but  the  bees  were  effectually  guarded 
against  many  of  their  enemies,  and  vast  stores  of  white 
honey  btained  where  almost  none  had  been  secured. 
Literature  upon  subjects  pertaining  to  bee-culture,  for 
the  first  time  began  to  assume  a  respectable  place.  The 
able  work  of  Langstroth,  and  numerous  articles  from 
his  pen,  as  well  as  from  Samuel  Wagner,  Quinby,  and 
many  others,  soon  developed  a  desire  for  reading  upon 
this  subject,  which  resulted  in  establishing  the  Ameri- 
can Bee  Journal,  and  a  special  department  devoted  to 
bee-culture  in  nearly  all  the  leading  agricultural  papers 
in  the  United  States.  The  number  of  bee  papers  has 
been  increased  in  this  country  in  the  last  few  years,  until 
at  present  we  have  seven,  one  of  which  is  weekly.  Also, 
such  able  works  as  the  "Manual  of  the  Apiary,"  by 
Prof.  A.  J.  Cook;  " Quinby' s  New  Bee-Keeping,"  by 
L.  C.  Root;  "A.  B.  C.  ol  Bee-Culture,"  by  A.  I.  Root, 
and  a  host  of  smaller  works  by  able  authors. 

Many  other  movable  comb  hives,  besides  that  of  Langs- 
troth' s,  have  been  invented,  each  claiming  some  excel 


198  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

lence  over  others,  but  the  original  invention  still  holds 
its  own,  and  is  adopted  by  a  majority  of  the  leading 
apiarists  of  America,  and  remains  substantially  as  it  left 
the  hands  of  the  great  inventor  thirty  years  ago.  Most 
other  hives  are  complicated,  and  have  many  useless 
appendages,  defeating  the  very  object  for  which  they 
were  invented.  They  look  very  attractive,  and  work 
nicely  at  a  fair,  or  on  a  show  table,  but,  with  a  swarm  of 
bees  in  them,  all  their  movable  and  adjustable  parts  are 
waxed  firmly  together,  and  to  loosen  them  jars  them  and 
makes  the  bees  hard  to  control. 

Improvements  in  receptacles  for  nice  comb  honey  have 
been  nearly  as  great  as  those  of  the  hive.  In  place  of 
the  old  box  cap,  we  now  have  the  neat  and  convenient 
prize  section  box  with  snow-white  combs  of  honey,  which 
may  be  kept  in  virgin  beauty,  and  free  from  waste  almost 
indefinitely.  The  honey  extractor  is  a  long  stride  in  pro- 
gress, which  can  scarcely  be  realized.  Its  numerous  ben- 
efits, only  those  who  have  used  can  estimate.  By  it  the 
amount  of  honey  obtained  can  be  more  than  doubled, 
and  many  difficulties  in  su  cossful  bee-keeping  obviated, 
while  the  delicious  sweet,  free  from  wax  and  all  foreign 
substances,  presents  to  the  eye  and  palate  a  treat  not  to 
be  despised. 

There  are  in  America  about  3,000,000  colonies  of  bees, 
but  our  reports  are  from  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  million, 
or  one-twelfth  of  the  whole.  If  the  one- twelfth  that  are 
reported  are  a  fair  average  f  the  whole,  then  the  crop  of 
American  honey  for  one  season  amounts  to  120,000,000 
pounds.  If  we  call  it  only  one  hundred  millions,  it  is 
worth  $15,000,000.00.  Surely  the  industry  is  of  sufll- 

i 


BEE   KEEPING.  199 

cient  magnitude  to  satisfy  the  most  enthusiastic  of  its 
devotees. 

There  is  a  charming  little  work  called  "The  Blessed 
Bees,"  written  by  a  minister,  but  wholly  wanting  in 
a  most  important  quality,  veracity.  At  least  bee  men 
so  regard  it.  I  give  an  extract  from  its  pages  as  a 
specimen  of  enthusiasm  on  paper,  and  which  under  favor- 
able circumstances,  might  have  been  true.  The  writer 
says : 

"  Bee-keepers  will  always  be  of  two  classes.  First  there  will 
be  those  who  will  keep  a  few  swarms  for  pleasure  and  profit, 
but  whose  main  business  is  something  else.  There  are  very 
large  numbers  of  men  and  women  in  country,  village,  or  city, 
who  could  keep  a  few  swarms  of  bees,  and  who  could  derive 
from  the  care  of  them  health,  recreation,  and  a  small  profit. 
Let  such  get  a  book  on  bee-culture  that  is  up  with  the  times, 
subscribe  for  a  good  journal  devoted  to  bee-culture,  get  a  swarm 
of  bees,  and  go  to  work.  They  will  find  the  health  and  pleasure 
that  always  come  from  an  avocation  that  takes  the  mind  from 
the  regular  work,  and  they  will  get  enough  profit  to  pay  them 
for  their  time. 

"  The  second  class  of  bee-keepers  will  be  those  who  make  it 
their  principal  or  only  business,  who  follow  it  for  a  livelihood. 
There  are  not  a  few  who  already  do  this,  and  the  number  is 
increasing  every  year.  There  is  at  present  no  branch  of  rural 
industry  that  offers  better  chances  for  success  to  the  intelligent, 
energetic  man  or  woman.  Begin  slowly,  learn  the  business, 
advance  surely,  and  soon  a  healthful  and  delightful  business 
can  be  built  up  which  will  give  a  fair  income.  There  are  now 
in  different  parts  of  the  country  many  who  number  their  hives 
by  the  hundred — a  few  who  number  them  by  the  thousand. 

"  In  the  course  of  one  year  devoted  to  a  careful  practical 


200  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

study  of  bees  and  bee-culture,  the  whole  business  can  be  thor- 
oughly learned  in  a  general  way,  but  there  will  be  constant 
experiments  to  make,  and  it  is  only  by  experience  that  the  best 
knowledge  of  the  industry  can  be  gained.  To  follow  the  busi- 
ness with  success  will  demand  the  same  business  qualities  that 
command  success  in  other  callings.  There  will  be  much  in  loca- 
tion and  in  favorable  conditions.  Eternal  vigilance  is  the  price 
of  honey  as  truly  as  it  is  of  liberty." 

"•  The  investment  in  the  business  was  $830.81.  I  had 
a  clear  cash  gain  of  360  per  cent."  This  was  for  seven 
months  work  among  the  bees.  His  gain  in  stock  was 
$780.  Adding  the  cash  gain  to  this  makes  a  total  gain 
of  $3,776.72.  There  was  to  show  for  this  either  cash  on 
hand  or  bees  worth  more  than  their  estimated  value. 
Bee  culturists  are  apt  to  consider  the  story  in  this  little 
book  romantic  and  not  of  practical  worth,  but  it  is 
delightful  reading,  and  there  are  some  truths  in  it. 
Professor  Cook  gives  the  gain  as  frequently  reaching  500 
percent.  But  these  are  exceptional  cases.  The ''Blessed 
Bees"  is  so  full  of  enthusiasm  that  it  helps  one  to  make 
an  effort  in  that  direction,  and  it  gives  the  bright  side  in 
the  most  delightful  manner,  as  when  the  writer  says,  in 
speaking  of  the  product : 

"  I  classified  the  honey  into  four  grades,  and  named  the  grades 
Apple  Blossoms,  White  Clover,  Linn,  and  Fall  Flowers.  These 
names  designated  as  accurately  as  any  I  could  think  of  the  exact 
sources  whence  the  honey  was  gathered,  and  they  were  attrac- 
tive names  that  would  call  up  in  minds  of  all,  visions  of  the 
beautiful  country  in  the  time  of  apple-bloom; 

'  One  boundless  blush,  one  white-empurpled  shower 
Of  mingled  blossoms.' 


BEE   KEEPING.  201 

Of  the  starry  carpet  of  green  and  white  which  in  June  the  clover 
spreads  over  hills  and  valleys;  of  the  honey-dripping  lindens 
from  among  whose  blooming  branches  the  eager  bees  send 
down  a  soothing  murmur  that  lulls  one  like  the  perfume  of  the 
Lotus;  and  of  the  wild  forest  nooks  and  lonely  swamps,  and 
brambly  hill-sides  that  assume  such  gorgeous  hues  when  golden- 
rod  and  asters  and  coreopsis  fling  out  their  brilliant  banners  in 
August  and  September." 

All  this  might  be  practically  true,  but  authorities  on 
bees  say  that  the  whole  story  existed  only  in  the  prolific 
brain  of  the  writer.  The  Bee-keeper's  Guide;  or,  the 
Manual  of  the  Apiary,  by  A.  J.  Cook,  Professor  of 
Entomology  at  the  State  Agricultural  College,  Lansing, 
Michigan,  is  a  reliable  and  scientific  work  on  the  sub- 
ject. It  costs,  bound  in  cloth,  $1.25.  There  are  many 
valuable  text-books,  any  of  which  can  be  obtained  from 
L.  G-.  Newman,  974  West  Madison  street,  Chicago,  111. 
I  give  this  gratuitous  information  for  the  benefit  of 
women  who,  living  remote  from  cities,  may  be  uncer- 
tain where  to  send  or  whom  to  address. 

TRAVELING  BEES — A  CAR  LOAD  OF  BEES. 

On  Saturday  a  car  was  switched  on  the  East  Tennessee 
&  Virginia  Eailroad,  and  moved  south. 

It  was  filled  with  bee-hives.  One  hundred  and  forty 
of  the  latest  styles  of  bee-hives,  piled  systematically  on 
top  of  each  other,  and,  to  the  foreground,  a  philosopher 
with  his  bed  and  board. 

"Where  are  you  going  to  take  your  bees ?" 

"To  Florida  for  the  winter.  My  name  is  Thomas 
McFarland  Jackson,  and  I  live  in  Northern  Missouri.  T 


202  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

have  large  apiaries  that  are  forced  to  lie  idle  in  the  win- 
ter. I  am  going  to  take  this  car  load  of  hives  to  Florida, 
where  they  can  get  honey  every  day  in  the  year.  As 
soon  as  the  clover  is  out  again  in  Northern  Missouri  I 
will  take  them  back  there." 

"  Will  it  pay  you  to  move  them  ?" 

"  I  think  so.  It  costs  me  less  than  a  dollar  a  hive  for 
transportation,  and  each  hive  will  have  from  $6  to  $7 
worth  of  honey  in  it  when  I  bring  them  back.  That  is 
what  Italian  bees,  I  sent  to  Florida  last  year,  did  last 
winter.  Only  Italian  bees  will  thrive  in  Florida,  as  the 
moths  eat  up  the  common  bees." 

"  Will  you  live  in  the  open  air  there?" 

"  I  am  going  to  camp  around  with  my  bees.  I  believe 
I  will  bring  back  about  $1,000  worth  of  honey  in  hives 
that  would  otherwise  lie  idle  all  the  winter  and  be  empty 
in  the  spring." 

This  migratory  bee-keeping  has  been  practiced  from 
the  earliest  ages.  In  Egypt  it  has  been  kept  up  for  thou- 
sands of  years.  Mr.  T.  F.  Bingham,  of  Michigan,  and 
others  have  practiced  it;  but  nearly  all  have  abandoned 
it,  because  it  did  not  pay  them. 

Mr.  Perrine,  of  Chicago,  111.,  some  years  ago,  lost  sev- 
eral thousand  dollars  in  a  similar  manner.  He  had  a 
floating  apiary,  arranged  to  run  up  the  Mississippi  river 
from  New  Orleans,  following  the  bloom  till  he  was  to 
reach  Minnesota;  but  it  did  not  work.  Too  many  bees 
were  lost,  and  the  projector  is  now  wiser,  and  $10,000 
poorer. 


BEE   KEEPING.  203 

FIVE  HUNDRED  POUNDS  FROM  ONE  COLONY. 

I  commenced  the  season,  about  June  1,  with  30  col- 
onies, almost  destitute  of  honey;  increased  to  65,  in  fine 
condition  for  winter,  and  obtained  4,538  Ibs.  of  honey 
(807  of  comb,  in  2-lb.  boxes,  and  3,731  of  extracted);  I 
have  about  300  Ibs.  besides,  stored  away,  and  not  counted 
in  my  report.  My  best  yield  from  one  colony  was  486 
Ibs.  of  extracted.  I  think  that  I  took  enough  comb 
honey  from  it,  not  included  in  count,  to  make  over  500 
Ibs.  I  fed  about  3  Ibs.  of  sugar  in  spring,  but  the  bees 
received  no  other  help;  got  no  increase.  Time  of  extract- 
ing: July  5,  42  Ibs.;  15,  26  Ibs.;  21,  68  Ibs.;  28,  75  Ibs.; 
Aug.  24,  90  Ibs. ;  Sept.  7,  105  Ibs. ;  19  and  20,  80  Ibs. 
Had  I  used  three  instead  of  two  stories  for  surplus,  I 
think  I  could  have  obtained  at  least  600  Ibs.  I  was 
crowded  too  much  with  other  work  to  attend  to  it  as  I 
should,  or  I  could  have  made  a  much  better  showing  for 
my  bees.  The  cell  producing  this  queen  was  obtained 
from  a  strong  colony  of  bees  which  started  only  this  one 
cell,  during  the  basswood  harvest.  Could  I  have  another 
such  season  (which  was  very  poor  at  the  commence- 
ment), and  such  a  queen,  I  think  that  I  could  get  800  or 
1,000  Ibs.  of  honey.  If  cold  weather  kills  bees  (which  I 
think  it  often  does),  we  may  look  for  considerable  mor- 
tality among  our  pets  next  spring.  The  lowest  temper- 
ature noticed  here,  so  far,  is  35°  below  zero;  it  was  29° 
below  on  Feb.  2,  at  sun  rising;  and  away  below  every 
morning  since.  My  bees  all  answered  to  the  roll  call  a 
few  days  ago,  and  seemed  in  good  condition.  I  have 


204  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

them  in  a  good  dry  cellar,  with  about  5  inches  of  leaves 

packed  above  most  of  them. 

W.  C.  NUTT. 
OTLEY,  Iowa,  Feb.  7,  1883. 

Mrs.  L.  B.  Baker  reports,  in  the  Bee-Keepers'  Maga- 
zine, that  in  the  first  year  she  had  two  swarms  of  bees 
which  gave  her  a  profit  of  $103.15,  or  $51.56  per  swarm. 
The  second  year  she  made  a  profit  of  $59.85  per  hive. 
Mrs.  John  Baker,  of  Wyandotte,  Michigan,  has  a  few 
hives  in  her  beautiful,  well-kept  garden,  which  yield 
her  an  annual  supply  of  about  five  hundred  pounds  of 
delightful  honey,  about  half  of  which  she  sells  or 
exchanges  for  groceries.  This  lady  keeps  summer 
boarders,  does  her  own  cooking,  takes  care  of  a  large 
flower  garden,  and  finds  time  to  devote  to  intellectual 
pursuits. 

Mrs.  L.  Harrison,  of  Peoria,  EL,  is  another  bee-keeper, 
and  one  who  is  considered  an  authority  upon  all  matters 
pertaining  to  the  apiary. 

SUPERSTITIONS   ABOUT  BEES. 

Curious  superstitions  prevail  in  England  as  to  the  rela- 
tion between  bees  and  their  owners.  A  magazine  con- 
tributor mentions  several  of  these  fancies  as  follows: 

"  All  of  'em  dead,  sir — all  the  thirteen.     What  a  pity  it  is!" 

"  What's  a  pity,  Mrs. ?    Who's  dead  ?" 

"  The  bees,  to  be  sure,  sir.  Mrs.  Blank,  when  she  buried  her 
husband,  forgot  to  give  the  bees  a  bit  of  mourning,  and  now, 
sir,  all  the  bees  be  dead,  though  the  hives  be  pretty  nigh  full  of 
honey.  What  a  pity  'tis  folks  will  be  so  forgetful!" 


BEE   KEEPING.  205 

The  good  woman  continued  to  explain  that  whenever 
the  owner  or  part  owner  of  a  hive  died,  it  was  requisite 
to  place  little  bits  of  black  stuff  on  the  hive,  otherwise 
the  bees  would  follow  the  example  of  their  owner.  Her 
husband,  who  listened  while  this  scrap  of  folk-lore  was 
being  communicated  by  his  wife,  now  added: 

"  My  wife,  sir,  be  always  talking  a  lot  of  nonsense,  sir;  but 
this  about  the  bees  is  true,  for  I've  seen  it  myself." 

This  custom  of  putting  the  bees  in  mourning  is  very 
common,  and  is  strictly  adhered  to,  from  an  appre- 
hension of  its  omission  being  attended  with  fatal 
consequences. 

At  Cherry-Burton,  on  a  death  in  the  family,  a  scrap 
of  black  crape  is  applied  to  each  hive,  on  the  occasion  of 
the  funeral,  and  pounded  funeral  biscuit,  soaked  in  wine, 
is  placed  at  the  entrance  to  the  hive. 

"A  neighbor  of  mine,"  says  another  writer  on  this 
subject,  "bought  a  hive  of  bees  at  the  auction  of  the 
goods  of  a  farmer  who  had  recently  died.  The  bees 
seemed  very  sickly  and  not  likely  to  thrive,  when  my 
neighbor's  servant  bethought  him  that  they  had  never 
been  put  in  mourning  for  their  late  master.  On  this  he 
got  a  piece  of  crape  and  tied  it  to  a  stick,  which  he  fast- 
ened to  the  hive.  After  this  the  bees  recovered,  and 
when  I  saw  them  they  were  in  a  very  flourishing  condi- 
tion— a  result  which  was  unhesitatingly  attributed  to 
their  having  been  put  in  mourning. 

A  singular  superstition  prevailed  formerly  in  Devon- 
shire— the  custom  of  turning  round  the  bee  hives  that 
belonged  to  the  deceased,  if  he  owned  any,  at  the 


206  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

moment  the  corpse  was  carried  out  of  the  house.  The 
following  painful  circumstance  occurred  at  the  funeral  of 
a  rich  old  farmer.  Just  as  the  corpse  was  placed  in  the 
hearse,  and  the  visitors  were  arranged  in  order  for  the  pro- 
cession of  the  funeral,  some  one  called  out,  "Turn  the 
bees."  A  servant,  who  had  no  knowledge  of  such  a  cus- 
tom, instead  of  turning  the  hives  round,  lifted  them  up 
and  then  laid  them  down  on  their  side.  The  bees,  thus 
suddenly  invaded,  instantly  attacked  and  fastened  on  the 
visitors.  It  was  in  vain  they  tried  to  escape,  for  the 
bees  precipitately  followed,  and  left  their  stings  as 
marks  of  their  indignation.  A  general  confusion  took 
place,  and  it  was  some  time  before  the  friends  of  the 
deceased  could  be  rallied  together  to  proceed  to  the 
interment. 

Another  old  superstition  was  that  of  ringing  a  bell 
when  the  bees  swarmed,  or  beating  on  pans,  ringing 
gongs,  or  making  a  great  noise,  which  was  supposed  to 
induce  them  to  settle.  This  is  done  in  parts  of  Michigan 
and  the  prairies  of  Illinois  to-day,  and,  unlike  many 
other  old  customs  that  seem  to  have  no  meaning,  it  orig- 
inated in  a  known  law.  It  was  a  rule  in  Germany,  that 
when  bees  swarmed,  if  a  hive  left  home  and  settled  upon 
some  other  place,  that  whoever  owned  the  place  on  which 
they  alighted  should  become  their  rightful  possessor. 
This  law  was  not  available,  however,  if  the  owner  of  the 
bees  followed  and  kept  them  in  sight  all  the  way;  but  in 
order  to  prove  that  he  had  done  this,  he  was  compelled, 
as  he  ran,  to  ring  a  large  bell,  and  thus  make  his  pres- 
ence and  his  rightful  ownership  known. 


BEE   KEEPING.  207 

People,  in  old  times,  were  very  ignorant  of  the  habits 
or  workings  of  the  bees.  They  were  afraid  of  them. 
Bee-stings  were  not  then  considered  good  for  neuralgia, 
nor  was  there  any  neuralgia.  The  colony  was  said  to  be 
ruled  by  a  king,  whom  all  obeyed.  The  drones  were 
females  which  laid  all  the  eggs,  and  the  workers  were — 
well,  only  stingers.  In  short,  scarcely  anything  was 
known  about  bees,  and  success  was  attributed  almost 
entirely  to  luck. 

Our  own  poet,  John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  has  embodied 
the  funeral  superstition  in  a  poem,  which  is  so  charac- 
teristically beautiful  that  I  give  it  entire. 

TELLING  THE  BEES. 


Here  is  the  place;  right  over  the  hill 

Runs  the  path  I  took. 
You  can  see  the  gap  in  the  old  wall  still, 

And  the  stepping  stones  in  the  shallow  brook. 

There  is  the  house,  with  the  gate  red- barred, 


I       .  And  the  poplars  tall; 


And  the  barn's  brown  length  and  the  cattle-yards, 
And  the  white  horns  tossing  above  the  wall. 

There  are  the  bee-hives  ranged  in  the  sun; 

And  down  by  the  brink 
Of  the  brook  are  her  poor  flowers,  weed  o'errun; 

Pansy  and  daffodil,  rose  and  pink. 

A  year  has  gone,  as  the  tortoise  goes, 

Heavy  and  slow; 
And  the  same  rose  blows,  and  the  same  cun  glows. 

And  the  same  brook  sings  of  a  year  ago. 


• 

I 

WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO.  J 

• 

There  's  the  same  sweet  clover  smell  in  the  breeze, 

And  the  June  sun  warm 
Tangles  his  wings  of  fire  in  the  trees, 

Setting  as  then  over  Fernside  farm. 

I  mind  me  how,  with  a  lover's  care, 

From  my  Sunday  coat 
I  brushed  off  the  burs  and  smoothed  my  hair, 

And  cooled  at  the  brook  side  my  brow  and  throat. 

Since  we  parted  a  month  had  passed, 

To  love,  a  year; 
Down  through  the  beeches  I  looked  at  last, 

On  the  little  red  gate  and  the  well  sweep  near. 

I  can  see  it  all  now,  thte  slantwise  rain 

Of  light  through  the  leaves; 
The  sun-downs  blaze  on  her  window  pane— 

The  blooms  of  her  roses  under  the  eaves. 

Just  the  same  as  a  month  before — 

The  house  and  the  trees, 
The  barn's  brown  gable,  the  vine  by  the  door; 

Nothing  changed  but  the  hives  of  bees. 

Before  them,  under  the  garden  wall, 

Forward  and  back, 
Went  drearily  singing  the  chore-girl  small, 

Draping  each  hive  with  a  shred  of  black. 

Trembling  I  listened;  the  summer  sun 

Had  the  chill  of  snow, 
For  I  knew  she  was  telling  the  bees  of  one 

Gone  on  the  journey  we  all  must  go. 

Then  I  said  to  myself,  "  My  Mary  weeps, 

For  the  dead  to-day; 
Haply  her  blind  old  grandsire  sleeps 

The  fret  and  pain  of  his  age  away. ' 


BEE   KEEPING. 

But  her  dog  whined  low;  on  the  door- way  sill 

With  his  cane  to  his  chin, 
The  old  man  sat,  and  the  chore-girl  still 

Sung  to  the  bees  stealing  out  and  in. 

And  the  song  she  was  singing  ever  since 

In  my  ear  sounds  on — 
Stay  at  home  pretty  bees,  fly  not  hence, 

Mistress  Mary  is  dead  and  gone." 


209 


FLUENT    and  sensible  writer  in 
the  Bazar   Dressmaker   says   that 
the  highest  ambition  of  a  young 
dressmaker  is  to  stand  at  the  head 
of  her  profession  as  a  cutter  and 
fitter.      Reader,  if  you  have  that 
ambition,  and  have  patience  to  go 
forth,  step  by  step,  learning  each  lesson  as 
you  go,  you  will  be  rewarded  with  success. 
Bear  in  mind  that  Pingat  and  Worth,  now 
the  two  greatest  dressmakers  in  the  world, 
were   once  as   ignorant   of    dressmaking   as 
you  are.    It  was  by  gathering  up  the  little 
things  and  binding  them  together  that  they 
became  great. 

In  the  United  States  there  are  many  who  excel  in 
trimming,  draping,  and  in  giving  an  air  of  style,  but 
who  are  poor  fitters.  A  want  of  this  knowledge  pre- 
cludes the  possibility  of  their  reaching  the  highest  posi- 
tion in  their  profession.  The  difficulty  in  gaining  the 
higher  art  is  the  want  of  a  knowledge  of  the  lower  art. 
A  young  woman  who  wants  to  become  an  expert  in  the 


210 


DRESSMAKERS  AND  DRESSMAKING.  211 

art  must  begin  at  the  beginning.  All  knowledge  outside 
of  this  is  superficial,  uncertain,  and  unsatisfactory. 

The  question  which  every  young  woman  is  likely  to 
ask  herself  is  this:  "How  shall  I  excel  as  a  cutter  and 
fitter?"  To  the  mass  of  dressmakers,  and  especially  to 
those  who  are  about  to  start  in  the  business,  no  theme 
can  be  of  deeper  interest  than  this.  Hundreds  of  young 
women  long,  with  an  intense  anxiety,  to  learn  the  art  of 
cutting  and  fitting  thoroughly. 

Now,  it  is  an  actual  fact,  that,  as  a  rule,  dress- 
makers are  deplorably  ignorant  of  even  the  first  princi- 
ples of  their  profession.  The  people  are  beginning  to 
open  their  eyes  to  this  fact,  and  schools  for  dressmaking 
are  now  established  in  various  parts  of  the  country.  But 
it  is  not  convenient  to  take  long  journeys,  or  spend  a 
season,  at  great  expense,  away  from  home,  in  order  to 
learn  the  art,  if  it  can  as  readily  be  learned  from  text- 
books at  home.  It  has  been  a  favorite  boast  with  the 
average  dressmaker  that  she  never  served  an  apprentice- 
ship at  the  business,  but  "  picked  it  up,"  a  fact  patent 
to  all  of  her  customers.  Ladies  are  tired  of  this  slip- 
shod way  of  having  their  dresses  made,  and  now  that 
every  second  family  in  a  village  goes  abroad,  something 
after  the  French  style  of  fitting  and  making  is  demanded. 
American  ladies  use  rich  goods.  The  wife  and  daughters 
of  a  tradesman  dress  in  silks  and  satins  every  day,  and 
the  American  woman  has  a  good  figure  when  it  is  not 
distorted  by  a  wretchedly  fitting  dress.  So  the  village 
seamstress  may  as  well  awaken  to  the  fact  that  she  must 
take  a  preparatory  course  of  instruction  before  putting 


212  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

her  shears  into  the  rich  materials  now  used  in  even  plain 
outfits. 

If  she  is  not  obstinately  and  blindly  wedded  to  her 
native  ignorance,  and  prejudiced,  she  will  soon  learn  the 
Eew  simple  but  also  perfect  and  absolute  rules  which 
govern  the  whole  business,  and  find  that  when  she  has 
once  mastered  them  it  will  be  absolutely  impossible  to 
make  a  mistake.  In  these  days  of  progress,  when  a  new 
creed  is  formulated,  there  is  room  left  for  amendments. 
So  in  the  simplest  designs  of  use  in  our  everyday  work 
we  need  to  leave  a  margin  for  improvements.  Each  year 
will  change  the  cut  of  a  sleeve,  the  length  of  a  waist,  the 
slope  of  a  shoulder — it  may  be  only  an  inch — but  as  some 
one  has  wittily  said,  an  inch  taken  from  or  added  to  the 
length  of  a  nose  would  make  a  vast  difference  to  the 
other  fea.tures.  The  old-time  seamstress  who  went  round 
spring  and  fall  into  country  homes,  carried  her  patterns 
with  her,  and  they  served  for  years  in  the  same  families, 
the  difference  being  a  seam  folded  in  or  let  out.  It  is 
estimated  that  there  are  seven  thousand  dressmakers 
in  the  City  of  New  York,  exclusively  engaged  in 
making  ladies'  and  children's  dresses.  This  includes 
two  hundred  and  seventy  men  dressmakers.  The  wages 
rate  from  four  dollars  to  sixty  dollars  per  week.  The 
price  is  graded  according  to  ability.  In  one  establish- 
ment in  New  York  there  are  sixty  men  dressmakers 
employed.  The  average  wages  are  thirty-one  dollars  a 
week.  Some  make  as,  high  as  fifty  dollars  per  week. 
In  all  large  cities,  and  especially  in  the  City  of  New 
York,  there  is  a  constant  demand  for  good  fitters,  at 
i  salaries  ranging  from  fifteen  to  forty  dollars  per  week. 

' 


DRESSMAKERS  AND   DRESSMAKING.  213 

There  are  hundreds  of  young  women  throughout  the 
country  who  have  the  taste  and  the  talent  to  fill  such  a 
situation.  All  they  want  is  opportunity  and  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  laws  which  govern  the  art  of  dressmaking. 
Every  dressmaker  should  be  able  to  conscientiously 
answer  yes  to  the  following  questions  before  she  applies 
for  a  responsible  position : 

THE  DRESSMAKERS'  QUESTION  CHART. 

1.  Do  I  understand  the  art  of  cutting  and  fitting,  and 
am  I  able,  without  delay  or  fault,  to  make  a  dress  and 
send  it  home  complete,  without  refitting  or  trying  on1? 

2.  Do  I  understand  the  English  system  of  drafting  or 
cutting  by  rule — that  is,  am  I  able  to  take  the  measure, 
and  with  the  same  inch  tape  cut  the  garment  just  as  the 
tailor  would  cut  a  coat  ? 

3.  Am  I  able  to  fit  as  the  French  fit — that  is,  can  I 
take  the  measure  or  impression,  as  the  French  call  it, 
just  the  same  as  the  glovemaker  takes  the  measure  or 
impression  of  the  hand,  and  from  this  cut  and  make  a 
dress,  without  refitting,  and  feel  assured  that  the  cus- 
tomer will  be  pleased  with  the  fit  of  the  dress  ? 

4.  Can  I  make  my  own  models  and  cut  my  own  pat- 
terns without  the  aid  of  charts  or  machine  of  any  kind  ? 
Can  I  reproduce  patterns  or  styles  from  any  book  ? 

5.  Do  I  understand  the  art  of  basting?    Do  I  know 
that  without  this  knowledge  it  is  impossible  to  make  a 
perfect  fitting  dress;  that  each  seam  requires  different 
treatment;  that  some  have  to  be  stretched,  while  others 
are  held  full;  that  the  lining,  too,  should  be  basted  so 
as  to  yield  to  the  pressure  of  the  body;  that  some  parts 


214  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

must  be  quite  loose  on  the  material,  while  other  parts 
must  be  tight  ?  Do  I  know  that  without  this  knowledge 
I  can  not  excel  as  a  fitter  ? 

These  are  the  qualifications  necessary  to  ensure  suc- 
cess. It  is  evident  from  the  badly  fitting  dresses  every- 
where to  be  seen,  that  all  dressmakers  have  not  these 
accomplishments.  The  first  essential  in  the  education  of 
a  dressmaker  is  basting;  the  next  of  importance  is  cutting 
and  fitting.  The  majority  of  dressmakers  are  poor  bast- 
ers,  consequently  poor  fitters.  In  order  to  get  this 
knowledge  it  is  necessary  to  begin  at  the  beginning,  and 
this  is  the  reason  there  are  so  many  poor  fitters  and 
unsuccessful  dressmakers.  They  do  not  begin  aright; 
their  knowledge  is  superficial,  uncertain,  and  unsatisfac- 
tory. Any  young  woman  with  taste,  no  matter  what  her 
station  in  life  may  be,  if  she  is  a  good  plain  sewer  and 
baster,  with  an  honest  pride  in  taking  care  of  herself, 
can  learn  the  .French  system  at  her  own  home  in  less 
than  three  months.  An  experienced  dressmaker  can 
learn  the  system  in  a  few  hours. 

We  are  not  in  the  least  interested,  financially  or  other- 
wise, in  the  introduction  of  this  system,  but  believe  it  to 
be  the  best  now  in  use.  It  was  introduced  in  Paris  in 
the  year  1868,  and  there  confined  to  a  few  first-class 
dressmakers.  It  is  now  in  general  use  by  the  best  dress- 
makers in  Europe  and  America.  The  question  is  fre- 
quently asked,  "  Can  the  work  be  done  ?"  If  those  who 
ask  the  question  have  never  seen  Paris-made  dresses, 
they  can  form  but  little  idea  of  the  art  of  dressmaking, 
or  to  what  perfection  the  business  has  been  brought  by 
the  use  of  this  system.  A  few  years  ago  it  was  consid- 


I 
I 
I 

DRESSMAKERS   AND   DRESSMAKING  215 

|| 

ered  a  good  day' s  work  to  fit  six  dresses,  and  then  they 
had  all  to  be  refitted.  With  the  French  system  four 
times  the  amount  of  work  can  be  done,  as  compared  with 
other  systems.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  head 
fitter  in  one  of  the  large  establishments  in  New  York  to 
fit  thirty  ladies  in  a  day.  The  French  system  can  be 
learned  in  a  very  short  time  from  the  printed  book  of 
directions.* 

PLAIN   SEWING. 

How  many  women  are  there  who  can  make  a  beautiful 
button-hole  ?  How  many  who  can  do  fine  and  elegant 
needle  work,  as  it  used  to  be  done  before  the  era  of  sew- 
ing machines  ?  It  is  next  to  impossible  to  find  such  an 
one  who  takes  in  sewing.  There  are  a  few,  and  their 
work  is  monopolized  by  the  happy  families  who  discov- 
ered them.  They  are  never  idle.  The  average  seam- 
stress makes  everything  on  a  crazy  machine  that  runs  off 
the  track  persistently,  and  what  she  finishes  with  the 
needle  is  an  awful  alternative.  There  are  but  very  few 
women  who  are  so  proficient  that  they  can  begin  and 
finish  a  garment  without  making  a  single  mistake.  To 
accomplish  fine  needlework  is  not  only  an  art,  but  one 
which  may  at  any  time  be  turned  to  account  in  a  pecu- 
niary way,  as  expert  needlewomen  are  constantly  in 
demand.  Hand  sewing  is  still  considered  superior  to 
machine  work,  and  the  goods  sold  in  the  Ladies' 

*The  complete  book,  "The  French  System  of  Cutting  and  Pitting,"  is 
$7.  The  abridged  edition,  which  contains  all  the  most  important  rules  for 
a  beginner,  is  $1.50,  with  25  cents  extra  for  postage,  if  ordered  by  mail.  It 
can  be  obtained  through  any  reliable  book  dealer. 


216  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Exchange,  and  in  some  of  the  best  stores  in  the  large 
cities,  are  of  fine  needle  work.  There  are  several  stores 
in  New  York  devoted  to  the  sale  of  ready-made  under- 
wear, all  of  which  is  done  by  hand,  and  the  prices  are 
proportionately  high.  So  difficult  has  it  been  to  obtain 
these  goods  that  large  orders  have  been  sent  to  convents 
to  be  filled  by  the  sisters  and  their  pupils.  The  old  style 
of  hemming,  over-seaming,  felling  and  gathering  can  not 
be  improved  upon,  and  many  old  ladies  are  doing  this 
rare  work,  and  keeping  themselves  comfortable  in  their 
old  age.  Girls  are  not  as  healthy  to-day,  with  their  idle 
hours  out  of  school,  their  music  and  other  accomplish- 
ments, as  they  were  in  the  old  times,  when  they  were 
obliged  to  do  a  stint  every  day. 

In  regard  to  sewing  as  a  method  of  earning  a  liveli. 
hood,  she  who  excels  in  producing  a  finished  garment 
will  find  a  steady  market  for  her  labor.  Some  ladies 
who  live  quietly  at  home  spend  much  of  their  spare  time 
in  filling  orders  for  bridal  outfits,  infants'  wardrobes,  and 
children's  clothes,  making  a  specialty  of  white  goods. 
Others  make  shirts  only,  and  are  besieged  with  orders, 
one  customer  recommending  another.  It  is  often 
remarked  of  some  woman  who  is  engaged  in  dress- 
making or  plain  sewing,  that  she  has  no  sign  over  her 
door  or  in  the  window.  The  secret  of  this  is  that  the 
successful  modiste  has  no  need  to  advertise,  her  work 
speaks  for  her,  and  people  are  only  too  glad  to  employ 
skilled  labor. 

A  little  boy  who  had  heard  his  mother  wish  a  great 
many  times  that  her  sewing  was  done,  was  walking  out 
with  her  one  day  and  suddenly  exclaimed:  "Look, 


DRESSMAKERS  AND  DRESSMAKING.  217 

look,  mamma  !  there  is  one  woman  who  has  all  her  sew- 
ing done." 

He  had  discovered  a  sign  which  said,  "Sewing  done 
here." 

A  French  authority  takes  a  lofty  view  of  the  dress- 
makers' vocation.  She  must  have  the  artist's  eye  to 
judge  of  the  effects  of  color,  the  sculptor's  faculty  for 
form,  that  she  may  soften  the  outlines,  turn  the  figure  to 
the  best  advantage,  and  arrange  the  drapery  in  harmoni- 
ous folds.  She  must  know  history  in  order  to  take  from 
different  epochs  particular  details  suitable  to  various 
styles  of  beauty,  and  to  be  sure  of  making  no  mistake  in 
the  matter  of  accessories;  and  she  must  be  a  poet,  to 
give  grace  and  expression  and  character  to  the  costumes. 

THE  ETIQUETTE  OF  DRESSMAKING. 

I  presume  there  are  three  dressmakers  out  of  every 
twenty-five  who  present  the  appearance  and  manners  of 
ladies  to  their  customers.  The  dressmaker  we  most  fre- 
quently meet  with,  even  in  the  highest  grades  of  the  pro- 
fession, is  a  dilapidated  looking  woman,  dressed  hap- 
hazard in  a  cheap,  ill-fitting  costume,  who  has  nothing 
in  her  own  appearance  to  suggest  a  single  idea  of  what 
her  work  is.  Instead  of  being  interested  in  her  custom- 
ers' wants,  she  begins  a  doleful  story  of  how  one  girl  is 
sick  and  another  has  left  her  in  the  middle  of  the  season, 
without  giving  warning,  or  relate  her  own  domestic  trou- 
bles, or  the  remissness  of  some  of  her  customers.  When 
she  finally  gives  her  attention  she  brings  in  an  armful  of 
French  fashion  papers,  and  asks  the  customer  to  select 
something,  instead  of  selecting  and  suggesting  the  styles 


218 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


herself,  and  the  lady,  who  wants  her  new  dress  stylishly 
and  fashionably  made,  goes  away  with  no  idea  of  what 
it  is  to  be,  and  with  no  confidence  that  the  dressmaker 
knows  any  more  about  it  than  she  does. 

Whatever  is  worth  doing  is  worth  doing  well.  The 
dressmaker  demands  a  compensation  for  her  work  that 
is  not  always  commensurate  with  its  value.  The  mak- 
ing of  even  an  ordinary  dress  is  equal  in  expense  to  the 
cost  of  the  material,  and  should  add  correspondingly  to 
its  value.  It  is  not  the  mere  cutting  and  stitching  of  the 
cloth  into  a  garment  that  is  required — the  family  seam- 
stress could  do  that,  or  a  woman  hired  to  sew  by  the  day 
— but  it  is  expected  to  result  in  an  artistic  and  becoming 
costume— the  effect  of  taste,  skill,  and  experience  com- 
bined. Anything  else  is  a  fraudulent  imposition  on  the 
confidence  of  employers. 

The  woman,  then,  who  would  succeed,  must  work  con- 
scientiously, be  just  in  small  as  well  as  large  dealings, 
and  endeavor  to  inspire  confidence  in  those  who  would 
employ  her,  by  wearing  the  attractive  products  of  her 
own  skill,  and  surrounding  herself  with  the  tokens  of 
her  success.  And,  above  all,  let  her  keep  her  domestic 
troubles  and  the  wrangles  of  her  workroom  out  of  sight, 
and  as  separate  from  her  business  life,  as  she  would  the 
bread  and  butter  of  the  nursery  from  her  customers'  silks 
and  satins. 

BROIDERY-WORK 


BY  MARGARET  J.  PRESTON 


Beneath  the  desert's  rim  went  down  the  sun 
And  from  their  tent-doors,  all  their  service  done, 
Came  forth  the  Hebrew  women,  one  by  one. 


DRESSMAKERS   AND   DRESSMAKING.  219 

For  Bezaleel,  the  master, — who  had  rare 
And  curious  skill,  and  gifts  beyond  compare, 
Greater  than  old  Misraim's  greatest  were, — 

Had  bidden  them  approach  at  his  command, 

As  on  a  goat-skin,  spread  upon  the  sand, 

He  sate,  and  saw  them  grouped  on  every  hand. 

And  soon,  as  came  to  pass,  a  silence  fell; 
He  spake,  and  said:     "  Daughters  of  Israel, 
I  bring  a  word;  I  pray  ye  hearken  well. 

"  God's  tabernacle,  by  His  pattern  made, 
Shall  fail  of  finish,  though  in  order  laid, 
Unless  ye  women  lift  your  hands  to  aid !" 

A  murmur  ran  the  crouched  assembly  through. 
As  each  her  veil  about  her  closely  drew — 
"  We  are  but  women!  What  can  women  do?" 

And  Bezaleel  made  answer:     "  Not  a  man 
Of  all  our  tribes,  from  Judah  unto  Dan, 
Can  do  the  thing  that  just  ye  women  can  I 

"  The  gold  and  broidered  work  about  the  hem 
Of  the  priest's  robes, — pomegranate  knop  and  stem,— > 
Man's  clumsy  fingers  can  not  compass  them. 

"  The  sanctuary  curtains,  that  must  wreathen  be 
And  bossed  with  cherubim, — the  colors  three, 
Blue,  purple,  scarlet, — who  can  twine  but  ye  ? 

"  Yours  is  the  very  skill  for  which  I  call; 
So  bring  your  cunning  needlework,  though  small 
Your  gifts  may  seem:  the  Lord  hath  need  of  all!" 

O  Christian  women!  for  the  temples  set 
Throughout  earth's  desert  lands, — do  you  forget 
The  sanctuary  curtains  need  your  broidery  yetf 


O  high  or  noble  position  was  ever  attained 
without  taking  up  and  bravely  bearing 
some  cross.     No  path  ever  led  to  that 
which  was  worth  honest  labor  without 
some   thorns.     No   woman  can  build  a 
most  precious  home  who  does  not  well 
understand  that  she  must,  for  the  crown 
that  is  set  before  her,  cheerfully  accept  much 
labor,  suffering  and  self-sacrifice. — Mrs.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher. 

It  is  in  the  natural  condition  of  things 
that  all  women  should  be  housekeepers, 
whether  they  ever  keep  house  or  not,  and 
in  order  to  be  successful  in  administering 
the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  of  home,  every 
young  girl  should,  if  possible,  learn  the 
practical  routine  of  housework,  performing  with  her  own 
hands  the  various  duties  which  pertain  to  it.  This  need 
not  interrupt  her  studies  or  her  attendance  at  day  school, 
or  interfere  with  the  acquirement  of  some  trade  or  pro- 
fession, but  can  be  taken  up  as  a  means  of  exercise,  or  at 
times  when  she  is  not  studying  or  employed  at  other 
work.  There  are  in  all  girls'  lives  some  years  of  waiting, 

220 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER.  221 

which  can  be  profitably  employed  in  learning  to  make 
home  comfortable.  That  is  the  great  incentive;  it  is  not 
the  mere  handling  of  a  lot  of  senseless  pots  and  pans,  the 
washing  of  greasy  dishes,  the  sweeping  of  dusty  rooms. 
It  is  a  labor  of  love  for  dear  ones  dependent  upon  us;  it 
is  even  more  a  form  of  religion,  for  labor  is  worship. 

"  Labor  is  rest  from  the  sorrows  that  greet  us; 
Rest  from  all  petty  vexations  that  meet  us; 
Rest  from  sin-promptings  that  ever  entreat  us; 
Rest  from  world-sirens  that  lure  us  to  ill." 

No  woman  need  ask  for  a  happier  task  than  that  of 
administering  to  the  wants  of  those  she  loves;  but  it 
requires  education,  adaptation,  and  natural  tact  to  fill 
the  position  with  satisfaction  to  herself  and  others. 
Housekeeping  can  be  raised  to  a  science,  or  reduced  to 
a  mere  menial  occupation.  A  poor  housekeeper  will 
take  a  great  many  unnecessary  steps,  which  do  not 
accomplish  anything;  she  does  not  understand  the  art 
of  labor-saving.  We  are  all  acquainted  with  families 
where  the  work  is  never  done;  the  members  do  not  seem 
to  be  idle,  but,  instead  of  driving  the  work,  it  is  forever 
driving  them.  On  the  other  side,  we  can  recall  house- 
holds where  there  never  seems  to  be  any  work  to  do. 
With  an  equal  number  of  members,  and  as  many  duties 
to  be  attended  to,  there  is  no  hurry  or  worry  going  on. 
The  rooms  are  always  swept  and  dusted,  the  dishes 
washed,  the  pots  and  pans  scoured  bright,  and  the 
ladies  of  the  family  seem  to  have  plenty  of  leisure, 
and  this,  too,  where  no  domestic  is  kept,  or,  at  the 
most,  a  small  assistant,  to  fetch  and  carry.  The  secret 


222  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

of  it  is — system.  There  is  no  machinery  in  the  world 
that  does  such  perfect  and  valuable  work  as  human 
hands,  and  these  are  regulated  by  the  head  and  heart. 
When  a  painter  was  once  commended  for  his  fine  sun- 
sets, he  was  asked  what  he  mixed  his  colors  with,  and  his 
answer  was,  "With  brains,  sir." 

A  writer  upon  this  subject  has  lately  shown  that  many 
of  the  ills  and  diseases  prevalent  among  women  in  our 
day  are  no  doubt  traceable  to  the  sedentary  mode  of  life 
so  common  among  them.  The  progress  of  modern  indus- 
trial art  has  done  away  with  much  of  the  household 
drudgery  to  which  women  were  formerly  subjected,  and 
the  result  is,  in  too  many  cases,  want  of  sufficient  occu- 
pation for  needed  bodily  exercise.  The  fruits  of  this 
state  of  things  are  strikingly  exhibited  in  certain  obser- 
vations made  by  the  late  Mr.  Robertson,  a  Manchester 
surgeon,  who  found  that  in  women  who  themselves  per- 
formed all  their  household  work,  there  was  no  trace  of 
certain  complaints;  that  these  complaints  begin  to  make 
their  appearance  in  women  with  one  servant,  become 
more  pronounced  in  women  with  two  servants,  or  worse 
still  with  those  who  have  three  servants,  and  so  on.  He 
showed  statistically  that  the  deaths  from  child-birth  were 
four  times  greater  in  the  case  of  women  with  four  ser- 
vants than  those  with  none. 

There  must  be  many  things  taken  into  consideration, 
however,  by  the  woman  who  does  her  own  housework, 
and  wishes  to  preserve  her  health.  There  is  no  economy 
in  doing  without  a  servant  at  the  expense  of  doctors' 
bills  and  nurses'  charges.  It  is  better  to  do  without  silk 
dresses  and  other  luxuries  which  are  obtained  at  that 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER.  223 

sacrifice.  There  should  always  be  some  help  in  the  fam- 
ily, if  possible — a  pair  of  strong  arms  to  do  the  rough 
work  and  save  steps,  and  to  be  in  the  kitchen  when  the 
mistress  of  the  house  is  attending  to  her  duties  else- 
where. In  describing  a  household,  where  there  is  no 
servant  kept,  we  are  presuming  that  there  are  several 
ladies  in  the  family  to  assist  each  other.  A  wife  who 
keeps  up  her  position  as  mistress  of  her  home,  does  the 
kitchen  work,  presides  at  table,  and  entertains  as  hos- 
tess, receives  and  returns  calls,  and  possibly  takes  care  of 
her  children,  is  doing  too  much,  and  must  eventually 
break  down  under  the  strain,  and  become  a  peevish,  dis- 
satisfied, faded  woman,  whom  it  is  a  trial  to  live  with. 
In  such  a  case  it  would  be  infinitely  preferable  for  the 
wife  to  earn  the  money  to  pay  a  girl  with,  in  some  pro- 
fession adapted  to  her  strength  and  tastes.  It  must  be 
remembered,  too,  that  this  accumulation  of  service  is  a 
labor  of  love.  As  a  general  thing  the  wife  does  not 
receive  any  pecuniary  compensation  which  she  can  call 
her  own. 

UNPAID  WOKKEKS. 

A  little  boy  on  his  way  to  build  fires  in  an  office,  while 
the  stars  were  still  in  the  sky,  told  the  writer:  "My 
mother  gets  up,  builds  the  fire,  gets  my  breakfast  and 
sends  me  off.  Then  she  gets  my  father  up  and  gives 
him  his  breakfast,  and  sends  him  off.  Then  she  gives 
the  other  children  their  breakfast,  and  sends  them  off  to 
school;  and  then  she  and  the  baby  have  their  breakfast." 

"  How  old  is  the  baby,"  I  asked  ? 

"Oh,  she  is  most  two;  but  she  can  talk  and  walk  as 
well  as  any  of  us." 


224  WHAT  CAN   A  WOMAN   DO. 

"Are  you  well  paid  for  your  work  2" 
"  I  get  $2  a  week,  and  father  gets  $2  a  day." 
"How  much  does  your  mother  get  ?" 
With  a  bewildered  look  he  answered: 
"Mother?    Why,  she  don't  work  for  anybody." 
"I  thought  you  said  she  worked  for  all  of  you  ?" 
"Oh,  yes;  she  works  for  us,  but  there  aint  any  money 
in  it." 

This  wife  of  a  day  laborer  represents  a  large  class  of 
women  who  work  hard.  The  compensations  of  affec- 
tion, the  love  of  husband  and  children,  and  the  name- 
less and  numberless  blessings  that  come  with  and  belong 
to  the  family  life,  can  no  more  make  up  to  a  wife  the 
loss  of  all  money  value  for  her  services  than  they  would 
to  her  husband,  if  the  same  poverty  of  position  were 
thrust  upon  him. 

The  same  picture  is  represented  by  another  child. 
This  time  a  little  girl  was  asked  if  her  mother's  hair 
wasn't  beginning  to  turn  gray  on  the  top  of  her  head; 
the  child  answered  innocently  that  she  did  not  know, 
her  mother  was  too  tall  for  her  to  see  the  top  of  her 
head,  and  she  never  got  time  to  sit  down !  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  at  the  end  of  every  year  she  found  herself  in 
possession  of  a  sum  of  money  for  which  she  was  not 
obliged  to  render  any  account — money,  the  use  of  which 
would  be  sweetened  by  the  honorable  toil  that  won  it. 
And  just  here  I  would  say  that  while  I  would  advocate 
no  sordid  service  in  the  family,  I  do  think  that  toil, 
without  recompense,  is  as  husks  to  the  soul.  The  chil- 
dren may  have  enough  to  eat  and  drink  and  wear,  but 
let  them  have  a  little  spending  money,  to  earn  which 


THE   HOUSEKEEPER.  225 

they  may  run  errands,  sew  on  patches,  or  do  any  little 
service  that  has  not  the  interest  of  a  great  deed.  It  will 
encourage  them  to  do  their  work  well,  and  teach  them 
the  value  of  labor. 

KEEP   AN   ACCOUNT. 

The  faithful  mistress  of  a  household  will  soon  learn 
the  necessity  of  keeping  strict  account,  year  by  year,  of 
the  expenses  involved  in  housekeeping,  even  to  the  soap, 
matches,  tacks,  brooms,  pails,  etc.,  which  a  reckless  or 
incompetent  girl  will  waste  and  destroy;  also  the  cur- 
rent expenses  of  food. 

"  The  butcher,  the  baker, 
The  candlestick  maker," 

will  charge  exorbitantly  if  left  to  themselves;  at  least 
their  patrons  always  think  so,  when  their  bills  are  pre- 
sented at  the  end  of  a  month.  "  What!"  says  the  aston- 
ished housekeeper,  "  ninety  cents  for  beefsteak;  I  never 
had  any  such  amount  at  one  time." 

Now  she  refers  to  her  itemized  account  book,  and  finds 
out  that  on  that  day  she  had  baked  fish,  and  no  beef- 
steak; it  is  an  error  of  the  butcher,  and  she  does  not  pay 
for  his  mistakes.  So  with  all  other  expenditures.  She 
has  heard  that  a  thriftless  wife  can  throw  out  of  the  back 
door,  with  a  spoon,  all  that  her  husband  can  bring  in 
the  front  door  on  a  shovel,  and  she  is  determined  to  be 
prudent  and  vigilant.  She  has  a  list  of  all  articles  in 
use  down  in  her  book — bed  linen,  table  linen,  towels, 
rollers,  dusters,  dish  cloths,  lamp  cloths,  and  all  culin- 
ary utensils.  Her  damask  towels  do  not  masquerade  in 
is 


226  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

the  kitchen  as  dish  wipers.  The  cat  does  not  break  her 
dishes  or  eat  cold  joints;  and  the  servants  of  such  a  mis- 
tress must  respect  and  conform  to  her  style  of  manage- 
ment; otherwise  they  part  company. 

In  looking  over  account  books,  it  is  easy  to  see  where 
useless  expenditures  can  be  avoided  in  future,  or  a  more 
economical  method  be  instituted.  The  very  fact  of  such 
a  system  of  domestic  book-keeping  existing  will  ensure 
faithful  attention  to  all  the  minor  details,  which,  in  the 
aggregate,  amount  to  so  much,  and  involve  human  hap- 
piness, as  well  as  dollars  and  cents. 

The  following  lines  were  written  by  one  of  the  daugh- 
ters of  the  late  Lucretia  Mott,  the  venerable  and  beloved 
Quaker  teacher  who,  for  more  than  half  a  century, 
labored  as  an  active  philanthropist,  and  a  minister  of 
the  Society  of  Friends.  That  she  belonged  to  a  family 
of  workers  is  evident  from  the  "regulations,"  where 
even  the  aged  grandmother  is  expected  to  sew  and  knit, 
make  three  beds  daily,  and  "do  the  agreeable"  for  all. 
As  a  glimpse  of  the  domestic  life  of  a  woman  whose 
whole  life  was  spent  in  the  service  of  humanity,  it  is 
of  interest  to  the  public.  The  third  verse  details  the 
mother's  duties  "when  she's  at  home:" 

RULES  AND  REGULATIONS  FOR  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 


Our  grandmamma  shall  stately  sit, 
And,  as  it  suits  her,  sew  or  knit; 
Make  her  own  bed — one  for  our  mother, 
And  also  one  for  Tom,  our  brother; 
And  when  our  aunt  and  cousins  call, 
Do  the  agreeable  for  all; 
And  sundry 'little  matters  tell, 
In  style  that  has  no  parallel. 


THE   HOUSEKEEPER.  227 

Our  father,  daily  at  his  store, 
His  work  shall  do,  and  when  'tis  o'er 
Return,  behind  him  casting  care; 
And  seated  in  his  rocking  chair, 
With  slippers  on  and  lamp  at  hand, 
Will  read  the  news  from  every  land. 
Then  quietly  will  take  a  book, 
From  which  he'll  sometimes  slyly  look, 
And  list  to  what  the  young  folks  say. 
Or  haply  join  them  in  their  play. 

Our  mother's  charge,  when  she's  at  home, 
Shall  be,  bath,  store,  and  dining-room. 
Morning  and  night  she'll  wash  the  delf. 
And  place  it  neatly  on  the  shelf. 
To  her  own  room  she  will  attend, 
And  all  the  stockings  she  will  mend; 
Assist  the  girls  on  washing  day, 
And  put  the  ironed  clothes  away; 
And  have  a  general  oversight 
Of  things,  to  see  that  all  goes  right. 

Thrice  every  week  shall  Edward  go, 
Through  sun  and  rain,  through  frost  and 
And,  what  the  market  can  afford, 
Bring  home  to  grace  our  festal  board; 
Shall  bring  in  coal,  the  fire  to  cover, 
An  go  to  bed  when  that  is  over. 

Anna  the  lamps  shall  daily  fill, 

And  wash  the  tumblers  if  she  will; 

Shall  sweep  her  room  and  make  beds,  too*. 

One  for  herself,  and  one  for  Sue. 

Make  starch,  and  starch  the  ruffles,  cape, 

Collars  and  shirts,  and  other  traps; 

Sweep  all  the  entries  and  the  stairs, 

And,  added  to  these  trifling  cares, 

Shall,  as  our  mother  sometimes  goes 

On  little  journeys,  as  she  does, 


228  WHAT   CATS   A   WOMAN  DO. 

Assume  her  duties,  and  shall  try 
If  she  can  not  her  place  supply. 

Thomas  shall  close  the  house  at  night, 
And  see  that  all  is  safe  and  right. 
When  snow  falls,  paths  make  in  the  ydrd; 
He  can  not  call  that  labor  hard. 
Wait  on  the  girls  when'er  they  go 
To  lectures,  unless  other  beau 
Should  chance  his  services  to  proffer, 
And  they  should  choose  to  accept  the  offer. 

Our  cousin  and  our  sister  Lizzie 

Shall  part  of  every  day  be  busy. 

Their  own  room  they  shall  put  in  trim, 

And  keep  our  brother's  neat  for  him. 

The  parlors  they  must  take  in  care, 

And  keep  all  things  in  order  there; 

Must  sweep  and  dust,  and  wash  the  glasses, 

But  leave  for  Anna  all  the  brasses. 

On  wash-day  set  the  dinner  table, 

And  help  fold  clothes  when  they  are  able. 

Shall  lend  their  aid  in  ironing,  too, 

And  aught  else  they  incline  to  do ; 

And  then,  when  they  have  done  their  share 

Of  work,  if  they  have  time  to  spare, 

Assist  their  cousin  A.  C.  T.,  ' 

'Till  she's  their  cousin,  A.  C.  B. 

Dear  little  Sue  shall  be  the  runner, 
Because  our  Patty,  blessings  on  her, 
To  boarding-school  has  gone  away, 
Until  bright  spring  returns  to  stay. 
Her  tireless  kindness  won  each  heart, 
And  we  were  grieved  with  her  to  part, 
But  in  this  case  found  ease  from  pain, 
That  our  great  loss  was  her  great  gain. 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER.  229 

Sarah  shall  in  the  kitchen  be, 
Preparing  breakfast,  dinner,  tea, 
And  keeping  free  from  dust  the  closets, 
Where  flour,  etcetra,  she  deposits. 
Anna  shall  on  the  table  wait, 
Attend  the  doors,  see  to  the  gate; 
Clean  the  front  steps  and  pavement  too, 
And  many  other  things  she'll  do 
That  all  may  in  such  order  be, 
As  each  one  of  us  likes  to  see. 
Thus  all  their  duty  may  fulfill, 
And  if  'tis  done  with  cheerful  will, 
A  sure  reward  to  us  will  come, 
In  finding  a  most  happy  home. 

ANNA  MOTT  HOPPER. 

One  is  reminded,  upon  reading  the  poem,  of  the  old 
adage,  "Many  hands  make  light  work."  I  commend 
the  regulations  to  the  careful  perusal  of  young  house- 
keepers. They  will  find  much  to  encourage  and  improve 
them  in  these  simple  verses  breathing  of  home  and  its 
pleasant  domestic  duties. 

The  Rev  Henry  Hudson,  the  well-known  Shake- 
spearean scholar  and  author,  says,  regarding  the  edu- 
cation of  women:  "As  for  women,  let  it  suffice  that 
their  rights  and  interests  in  this  matter  are  co-ordinate 
with  those  of  men;  just  that,  and  no  more.  Their  main 
business,  also,  is  to  get  an  honest  living,  and  the  edu- 
cation that  impairs  them,  or  leaves  them  unprepared  for 
this,  is  the  height  and  folly  of  wrong.  The  greatest 
institution  in  the  world  is  the  family.  The  greatest  art 
known  among  men  is  housekeeping,  which  is  the  life  of 
the  family.  Housekeeping  is  the  last  thing  that  any 
lady  can  afford  to  be  ignorant  of." 


230  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

WOMAN'S  INVISIBLE  WOEK 

Home  means  so  much  in  this  nineteenth  century.  It 
means  all  that  makes  life  really  worth  the  living.  It 
means  comfort,  affection,  sympathy,  confidence,  conso- 
lation, encouragement,  rest,  and  peace.  It  is  the  object 
to  which  all  unselfish  endeavor  is  directed.  It  means 
the  solitary  spot  in  the  desert  of  the  world  where  all 
these  principles  and  virtues  taught  us  in  infancy  pre- 
serve their  truthful,  queen-like  date-palms.  It  means 
one  single  link  in  the  great  chain  of  ethical  knowledge, 
reaching  out  of  the  twilight  of  the  past  into  the  sun- 
gold  of  the  future,  preserving  unbroken  for  genera- 
tions to  come  the  lessons  of  honor,  affection,  strong 
purpose,  handed  down  to  us  through  untold  myriads  of 
years. 

When  the  head  of  the  family  returns  home  at  night, 
after  a  weary  day's  endeavor,  he  is  at  once  wrapped 
in  a  familiar  atmosphere  of  comfort.  There  is  a  place 
for  everything,  and  everything  in  its  place — easy  chairs 
offer  themselves,  sofas  invite,  fires  shine  clear,  pictures 
smile,  slippers  line  the  tired  feet,  while  the  cozily  spread 
social  table  offers  a  renewal  of  strength,  and  the  closed 
blinds  and  zealous  doors  shut  out  even  the  noises  of  the 
outside  world.  All  is  bright,  clear,  warm,  happy,  and 
it  is  all  woman's  invisible  work.  It  was  she  who 
arranged  everything,  brightened  everything,  placed 
necessary  things  ready  to  hand,  and  removed  useless 
ones.  The  man  of  the  house  never  saw  her  do  these 
things — never  will  see  her  do  them  He  is  always  absent 
when  the  household  elves  are  busy.  He  is  content  with- 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER.  231 

out  knowing  why — without  a  thought  of  the  thoughtful- 
ness  and  constant  labor  required  for  his  comfort. 

But  the  day  sometimes  dawns  when  the  invisible 
worker  must  cease  to  work.  It  is  only  then  that  her 
imperceptible  labor  is  fully  comprehended.  Somehow 
every  inanimate  object  rebels  now  that  she  is  absent; 
nothing  remains  in  place;  bright  things  grow  strangely 
dull;  handy  things  are  missing;  locks  get  out  of  order; 
windows  refuse  to  exclude  the  cold;  noises  will  not  be 
shut  out;  curtains  will  not  obey  the  hand;  familiar  com- 
forts flee  away;  the  house  becomes  inexplicably  void, 
and  cold  and  dead;  there  is  an  aspect  of  ruin  through  all 
its  riches;  it  lived  before;  it  breathed;  it  spoke  in  a 
peculiar,  pleasant,  dumb  way.  Now  its  life  has  utterly 
departed  from  it;  then  does  the  invisible  work  make 
itself  visible.  But  the  gentle  worker,  being  weary  at  last, 
has  found  a  new  home  with  that  All-Comforter,  whose 
palaces  eternally  silent,  immeasurably  vast,  open  their 
doors  to  guests  only  who  may  never  depart. 

WHY  NOT  SAVE  MOTHER. 


The  farmer  sat  in  his  easy  chair, 
Between  the  fire  and  the  lamplight's  glare, 
His  face  was  ruddy  and  full  and  fair, 
His  three  small  boys  in  the  chimney  nook 
Conned  the  lines  of  a  picture  book. 
His  wife,  the  pride  of  his  home  and  heart 
Baked  the  biscuit  and  made  the  tart — 
Laid  the  table  and  steeped  the  tea — 
Deftly,  swiftly,  and  silently; 
Tired  and  weary,  weak  and  faint, 
She  bore  her  trials  without  complaint, 
Like  many  another  household  saint — 


232  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO, 

Content,  all  selfish  bliss  above 
In  the  patient  ministry  of  love. 

At  last,  between  the  clouds  of  smoke 
That  wreathed  his  lips,  the  farmer  spoke: 
"  There's  taxes  to  raise  and  inter'st  to  pay. 
And  if  there  should  come  a  rainy  day 
'T  would  be  mighty  handy,  I'm  bound  to  say, 
T'  have  something  put  by.     For  folks  must  die 
An  there's  funeral  bills  and  gravestones  to  buy 
Enough  to  swamp  a  man,  purty  nigh; 
Besides,  there's  Edward  an'  Dick  an'  Joe 
To  be  provided  for  when  we  go. 
So,  if  I  were  you,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'd  du; 
I'd  be  savin'  of  wood  as  ever  I  could—- 
Extra fires  don't  do  any  good: 
I'd  be  savin'  of  soap,  and  savin'  of  ile, 
And  run  up  some  candles  once  in  a  while; 
I'd  rather  be  sparin'  of  coffee  and  tea, 

For  sugar  is  high, 

An'  all  to  buy, 

And  cider  is  good  enough  drink  for  me; 
I'd  be  kind  o'  careful  about  my  clo'es 
And  look  out  sharp  how  the  money  goes- 
Gewgaws  is  useless,  nater  knows; 

Extra  trimmin' 

's  the  bane  of  women. 
I'd  sell  the  best  of  my  cheese  and  honey, 
An'  eggs  is  as  good,  nigh  'bout  as  the  money; 
An'  as  tu  the  carpet  you  wanted  new— 
I  guess  we  can  make  the  old  one  du ; 
And  as  for  th'  washer,  and  sewin'  machine, 
Them  smooth-tongued  agents,  so  pesky  mean, 
You'd  better  get  rid  of  'em  slick  and  clean. 
What  do  they  know  'bout  women's  work. 
Do  they  calkilate  women  was  made  to  shirk?" 


J 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER. 

Dick  and  Edward  and  little  Joe 
Sat  in  the  corner  in  a  row 
They  saw  the  patient  mother  go 
On  ceaseless  errands  to  and  fro; 
They  saw  that  her  form  was  bent  and  thin, 
Her  temples  grey,  her  cheeks  sunk  in; 
They  saw  the  quiver  of  lip  and  chin — 
And  then,  with  a  wrath  he  could  not  smother, 
Outspoke  the  youngest,  frailest  brother: 
"  You  talk  of  savin'  wood  an'  ile 
And  tea  an'  sugar  all  the  while, 
But  you  never  talk  of  savin*  mother  1" 


233 


an. 


R.  Newton  was  looking  over  his 
cash  account  for  the  year. 

"Well,"     asked    his    wife, 
"how  do  yon  come  out?" 

"I    find,"    answered  the    hus- 
band, "that  my  expenses  during 


the  year  have  been  thirty-seven  cents  over 
one  thousand  dollars." 

"And  your  income  has  been  one  thou- 
sand dollars?" 

"  Yes;  I  managed  pretty  well,  didn'  1 1  ?" 
"Do  you  think  it  managing  well  to  ex- 
ceed your  income  ?"  asked  his  wife. 
"What's  thirty-seven  cents?" 
"Not  much,  to  be  sure,  but  still,  some- 
thing.    It  seems  to  me  that  we  ought  to  have  saved  from 
such  an  income,  instead  of  falling  behind." 

"But  how  can  we  save  on  such  a  salary,  Elizabeth? 
We  haven' t  lived  extravagantly,  and  yet  it  seems  to  have 
taken  it  all." 

"Perhaps  there  is  something  in  which  we  might 
retrench.  Suppose  you  mention  some  of  the  items. " 

234 


A  GOOD  MANAGER,  235 

"The  most  important  is  house  rent,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  and  articles  of  food,  five  hundred  dollars  " 

"  Just  half  of  the  income  ?" 

"Yes;  and  you  admit  you  can  not  retrench  them.  I 
like  to  live  well.  I  had  enough  of  poor  food  before  I 
was  married.  Now  I  mean  to  live  as  well  as  I  can." 

' '  Still,  we  ought  to  save  something  for  a  rainy  day, 
Ezra." 

"That  would  be  like  carrying  an  umbrella  when  the 
sun  shines." 

"  Still,  it  is  well  to  have  an  umbrella  in  the  house." 

"  I  can  not  controvert  your  logic,  Elizabeth,  but  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  save  anything  this  year. 
When  I  have  my  salary  raised  it  will  be  time  enough  to 
think  of  that." 

"  Let  me  make  a  proposition  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  New- 
ton. "  You  said  that  one-half  of  your  income  had  been 
expended  on  articles  of  food.  Are  you  willing  to  allow 
me  that  sum  for  that  purpose  ?" 

"  Do  you  guarantee  to  pay  all  bills  out  of  it  ?" 

"Yes." 

' '  Then  I  shift  the  responsibility  upon  you  with  plea- 
sure. But  I  tell  you  beforehand,  you  wont  be  able  to 
save  much  out  of  it,  and  I  shouldn't  relish  having  addi- 
tional bills  to  pay  As  I  am  paid  every  month  I  will 
hand  you  the  money  " 

The  different  characters  of  the  husband  and  wife  may 
be  judged  from  the  conversation  which  has  been  recorded. 
Mr.  Newton  had  little  prudence  or  foresight.  He  lived 
chiefly  for  the  present,  and  seemed  to  fancy  that  what- 
ever contingencies  might  arise  in  the  future,  he  would 


236 


WHAT  CAN    A   WOMAN  DO. 


somehow  be  provided  for  Now,  to  trust  to  Providence 
is  a  proper  way,  but  there  is  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  the 
adage,  that  "  God  helps  those  who  help  themselves  " 

Mrs.  Newton,  on  the  contrary,  had  been  brought  up 
in  a  family  which  was  compelled  to  be  economical,  and 
though  she  was  unwilling  to  deny  herself  comforts,  yet 
she  felt  that  It  was  desirable  to  procure  them  in  a  proper 
way. 

The  time  at  which  this  conversation  took  place  was  at 
the  commencement  of  the  second  year  of  their  married 
life. 

The  first  step  Mrs.  Newton  took,  on  accepting  the 
charge  of  the  household,  was  to  commence  the  practice  of 
paying  cash  for  all  articles  that  came  under  her  depart- 
ment. She  accordingly  called  on  the  butcher  and 
inquired : 

"How  often  have  you  been  in  the  habit  of  presenting 
your  bills,  Mr.  Wilson  ?" 

"  Once  in  three  months,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  sometimes  have  bad  bills." 

"Yes;  one-third  of  my  profits,  on  an  average,  are 
swept  off  by  them." 

"  I  will  set  them  an  example,  then,"  said  Mrs.  New- 
ton. "Hereafter  whatever  articles  shall  be  purchased 
will  be  paid  for  on  the  spot,  and  I  shall  expect  you  to 
sell  them  as  reasonably  as  you  can." 

This  arrangement  was  also  made  with  the  others,  who, 
it  is  scarcely  needful  to  say,  were  glad  to  enter  into 
the  arrangement.  Ready  money  is  a  great  supporter  of 
trade,  and  a  cash  customer  is  worth  two  who  purchase 
on  credit.  There  are  other  ways  in  which  a  careful 


A  GOOD   MANAGER.  237 

housekeeper  is  able  to  limit  expenses,  which  Mrs.  New- 
ton did  not  overlook.  With  an  object  in  view,  she  was 
always  on  the  lookout  to  prevent  waste — to  get  the  full 
value  of  whatever  was  expended.  The  result  was  beyond 
her  expectations. 

At  the  close  of  the  year,  on  examining  her  bank  book 
— for  she  had  regularly  deposited  whatever  money  she 
did  not  use — she  found  that  she  had  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  besides  reimbursing  herself  for  the  money 
spent  during  the  first  month,  and  had  enough  to  last 
through  the  other. 

"Well,  Elizabeth,  have  you  kept  within  your  allow- 
ance," asked  her  husband  at  that  time.  "  I  imagine  you 
have  not  found  it  as  easy  to  save  as  you  thought." 

"I  have  saved  something,  however,"  said  the  wife. 
"  How  is  it  with  you  ?" 

"That's  more  than  I  can  say;  however,  I  have  not 
exceeded  my  income;  that  is  one  good  thing.  We  have 
lived  fully  as  well  as  last  year,  and  I  do  not  know  but 
that  we  have  lived  better  than  when  we  spent  the  whole 
five  hundred  dollars. 

"Its  knack,  Ezra,"  said  his  wife,  smiling.  She  was 
not  inclined  to  mention  how  much  she  had  saved.  She 
wanted  some  time  or  other  to  surprise  him,  when  the 
amount  would  be  of  service. 

"She  may  possibly  have  saved  twenty- five  dollars," 
thought  Mr.  Newton,  or  some  trifle,  and  so  dismissed 
the  subject  from  his  mind. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  year  Mrs.  Newton's  savings, 
including  the  interest,  amounted  to  three  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  and  she  began  to  feel  quite  rich.  Her  hus- 


238  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

band  did  not  think  to  inquire  how  mnch  she  had  saved, 
supposing,  as  before,  it  could  be  but  little.  However,  he 
had  a  piece  of  good  news  to  communicate;  his  salary 
had  been  raised  from  one  thousand  to  one  thousand  two 
hundred.  He  added: 

"  As  I  before  allowed  you  one-half  of  my  income  for 
household  expenses,  it  is  no  more  than  fair  that  I  should 
do  so  now.  That  will  give  you  a  better  chance  to  save 
part  of  it  than  before." 

Mrs.  Newton  merely  said  she  had  saved  something, 
without  specifying  the  amount.  Her  allowance  was 
increased  to  six  hundred  dollars,  but  her  expenses  were 
not  increased  at  all,  so  that  her  savings  for  the  third 
year  swelled  the  aggregate  sum  in  the  savings  bank  to 
six  hundred  dollars. 

Mr.  Newton,  on  the  contrary,  in  spite  of  his  increased 
salary,  was  no  better  off  at  the  end  of  his  third  year  than 
before.  His  expenses  had  increased  by  one  hundred  dol- 
lars, though  he  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  tell  in 
what  way  his  comfort  or  happiness  had  been  increased 
thereby. 

In  spite  of  his  carelessness  as  to  his  own  affairs,  Mr. 
Newton  was  an  excellent  business  man,  and  his  ser- 
vices were  valuable  to  his  employers.  They  accordingly 
increased  his  salary  from  time  to  time  until  it  reached 
one  thousand  six  hundred  dollars.  He  had  continued 
his  custom  of  giving  his  wife  one-half,  and  this  had 
become  such  a  habit  that  he  never  thought  to  inquire 
whether  she  found  it  necessary  to  employ  the  whole  or 
not. 

Thus  ten  years  rolled  away.     During  all  this  time  Mr. 


A   GOOD   MANAGER.  239 

Newton  lived  in  the  same  hired  house,  for  which  he  paid 
an  annual  rent  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Lat- 
terly, however,  he  had  become  dissatisfied  with  it.  It 
had  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  new  landlord,  who  was 
not  disposed  to  keep  it  in  the  repair  which  the  tenant 
considered  desirable. 

About  this  time  a  block  of  excellent  houses  was  erected 
by  a  capitalist,  who  desired  to  sell  or  let  them  as  he 
might  have  an  opportunity.  They  were  modern,  and 
much  better  arranged  than  the  one  in  which  Mr.  New- 
ton lived,  and  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  move  into  one  of 
them.  He  mentioned  it  to  his  wife  one  morning. 

"What  is  the  rent  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Newton.  "  Two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  dollars  for  the  corner  house  ;  two 
hundred  for  either  of  the  others." 

"The  corner  house  would  be  preferable,  on  account  of 
the  side  windows." 

"Yes;  and  it  has  a  large  yard  besides.  I  think  we 
had  better  take  one  of  them.  I  guess  we'll  engage  one 
of  them  to-day.  You  know  our  year  is  up  next  week." 

"  Please  wait  until  to-morrow  before  you  engage  one," 
urged  Mrs.  Newton. 

' '  For  what  reason  ? ' ' 

"  I  should  like  to  examine  the  house." 

"Very  well,  I  suppose  to-morrow  will  do." 

Soon  after  breakfast  the  next  day  Mrs.  Newton  called 
on  the  owner  of  the  new  block,  and  intimated  her  desire 
to  be  shown  the  corner  house.  Her  request  was  readily 
complied  with.  Mrs.  Newton  was  quite  delighted  with 
all  the  arrangements,  and  expressed  her  satisfaction. 

A  Are  these  houses  for  sale  or  to  let? "  she  enquired. 


240  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


:"  Either,"  replied  the  owner. 
"The  yearly  rent  is,  I  understand,  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars  ?" 
"Yes;  I  consider  the  corner  house  worth  twenty-five 
iollars  more  than  the  others." 

"And  what  do  you  charge  for  the  house  for  a  cash 
purchase?"  asked  Mrs.  Newton,  with  subdued  eagerness. 

"Four  thousand  dollars,"  was  the  reply,  "and  that 
is  but  a  small  advance  on  the  cost." 

"Very  well,  I  will  buy  it  of  you,"  added  Mrs.  New- 
ton, quietly. 

"What  did  I  understand  you  to  say?"  asked  the 
owner,  scarcely  believing  his  own  ears. 

"  I  will  buy  this  house  at  your  own  price,  and  pay  the 
money  within  a  week." 

"  Then  the  house  is  yours.  But  your  husband  did  not 
say  anything  of  his  intention,  and  in  fact  I  did  not 
know " 

"That  he  had  any  money  to  invest,  I  suppose  you 
would  say.  Neither  does  he  know  it.  and  I  must  ask 
you  not  to  tell  him  at  present." 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Newton  invited  her  husband  to 
take  a  walk,  but  without  specifying  the  direction.  They 
goon  stood  in  front  of  the  house  in  which  he  desired  to 
live. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  in ?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes;  it  is  a  pity  we  did  not  get  the  key." 

"I  have  the  key,"  said  his  wife,  and  forthwith  she 
walked  up  the  steps  and  proceeded  to  open  the  door. 

"When  did  you  get  the  key  ?"  asked  her  husband. 


A  GOOD   MANAGER.  241 

"  Yesterday,  when  I  bought  the  house,"  said  his  wife, 
quietly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Just  what  I  say.  This  house  is  mine,  and  what  is 
mine  is  yours.  So  this  house  is  yours,  Ezra." 

"Where  in  the  name  of  goodness  did  you  raise  the 
money  ?"  asked  Mr.  Newton,  his  amazement  as  great  as 
ever. 

"I  haven't  been  managing  wife  for  ten  years  for 
nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Newton,  smiling. 

With  some  difficulty  Mrs.  Newton  persuaded  her  hus- 
band that  the  price  of  the  house  was  really  the  result  of 
her  savings.  He  felt,  when  he  observed  the  commodious 
arrangements  of  the  house,  that  he  had  reason  to  be 
grateful  for  the  prudence  of  his  managing  wife.* 

HOW  A  WORKING  GIRL  LIVES. 

The  story  here  told  is  that  of  a  sensible,  level-headed 
girl,  who  works  in  an  office  in  Cincinnati : 

"  My  work  is  principally  writing  letters  and  helping  to  keep 
the  books  of  my  employer,  who  does  a  business  of  upwards  of 
seventy-five  thousand  dollars  a  year.  I  receive  seven  dollars  a 

*The  story  of  a  good  manager  is  a  real  incident,  and  offers  a  good  moral, 
as  well  as  pleasant  reading;  but  I  would  not  advise  its  readers  to  expect 
like  results  from  a  like  experiment.  Mrs.  Newton  had  no  children  to 
divide  her  expenses  with,  no  doctor's  bills,  did  not  make  any  journeys,  and 
must  have  had  either  very  little  new  clothing,  or  earned  what  she  did  have 
in  some  other  way.  The  reader  will,  no  doubt,  have  a  burning  curiosity  to 
know  what  Mr.  Newton  did  with  his  share  of  the  money  which  must  have 
been  outside  of  his  expenditures  for  rent  and  clothing — clear  profit.  The 
good  management  is  evident  in  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Newton  saved  what  she 
could  easily  have  spent,  without  any  noticeable  decrease  of  comfort  in  hex 
particular  case,  and  so,  in  the  end,  realized  a  handsome  home. 

16 


242  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

week  for  my  work,  and  have  no  other  means  of  support.  My 
parents  are  both  dead,  and  they  left  no  estate,  above  what  was 
necessary  to  pay  a  few  debts.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  years  I 
started  square  with  the  world,  and  have  held  my  own  for  five 
years,  although,  I  confess,  it  has  been  a  continual  struggle. 

"  There  are  a  thousand  girls  in  Cincinnati  situated  just  as  I 
am,  struggling  on,  day  after  day,  to  keep  soul  and  body  together, 
with  no  future,  as  far  as  the  human  eye  can  discover,  worth  liv- 
ing for.  There  are  many  not  half  so  well  situated  as  I  am,  and 
God  only  knows  how  they  live.  As  long  as  I  keep  my  health  I 
have  enough,  with  none  to  spare;  but  that  hundreds  of  poor 
girls  go  to  bed  hungry  every  night  in  Cincinnati,  I  honestly 
believe.  I  know  girls  who  work  for  four  dollars  a  week — ser- 
vant girls  often  get  more  than  this,  and  they  have  no  board  t® 
pay.  It  would  be  a  sadly  interesting  chapter  that  would  explain 
just  how  a  girl  continues  to  keep  herself  in  clothes,  board  her- 
self, and  pay  rent  on  four  dollars  a  week.  Of  the  wages  I 
receive  every  penny  has  to  count.  A  few  girls  of  my  acquaint- 
ance live  at  home,  and  have  no  rent  to  pay.  There  are  others 
who  receive  a  little  assistance  from  their  fathers  or  brothers. 
But  there  are  many  who  live  on  this  sum,  and  support  them- 
selves without  assistance  from  any  source.  I  know  how  some  of 
them  manage  it.  Three  or  four,  and  in  one  case  I  know  where 
six  girls  have  clubbed  together  and  live  in  one  room,  thus 
making  the  rent  small  to  each  one.  They  pretend  to  take  their 
meals  at  cheap  restaurants,  but  really  they  are  obliged  to  do 
most  of  their  own  cooking.  Economy  could  go  no  further  than 
is  practiced  by  some  of  the  working  girls  in  large  cities," 


A  GOOD  MANAGER.  243 

This  young  lady  prepared  an  estimate  of  her  expenses, 
which  summed  up  as  follows : 

Salary  one  year   (fifty-two  weeks),   at   seven 

dollars  a  week,       ....  $364  00 

Deduct  one  week  lost  time,  -  $     7  00 

Board  and  room,  -  -  •  •  208  00 

Coal  extra,  •  •  -  •  10  00 

Clothing,  -  -  •  -  -     85  00 

Church,      -  -  -  •  -  10  00 

Car  fare,  -  -  •  •  -    25  00 

$345  00 

Balance,        •«... $19  00 

"You  can  well  imagine,"  concludes  the  writer,  "that  this 
balance  of  nineteen  dollars  is  soon  consumed  in  medicine  or 
other  necessary  expenditures.  Out  of  it  I  buy  a  paper,  or  drop 
an  occasional  nickel  to  some  poor  woman  in  the  street,  who 
seems  to  have  a  harder  struggle  with  the  world  than  I  have 
myself." 

The  working  girl  who  contributes  this  pathetic  chap- 
ter to  the  literature  of  woman's  work,  would  be  sur- 
prised could  she  know  how  many  girls  live  respectably, 
and  even  save  a  little  for  the  "  dark  day,"  on  seven  dol- 
lars a  week.  A  large  family  can  live  comfortably,  pay- 
house  rent,  and  dress  moderately  well  on  twenty-eight 
dollars  a  week,  or  fourteen  hundred  and  fifty-six  dollars  a 
year.  Let  four  girls,  then,  club  together,  rent  two  rooms, 
and  keep  house  on  the  co-operative  plan,  and  they  could 
not  only  live  well  but  save  something,  and  keep  a  cheap 
girl  to  do  the  house  work.  It  would  require  good  judg- 
ment and  frugality  in  buying  only  what  they  actually 


244  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

needed  —  plain,  wholesome  food,  that  would  nourish  them 
and  keep  them  in  good  health.  Their  washing  would 
cost  twenty-five  cents  each  week,  individually,  and  if 
employed  in  office  work  they  can  walk,  and  save  car 
fare. 

The  girls  who  receive  only  four  dollars  weekly  can 
make  the  same  advantageous  arrangements  —  one  rent 
and  one  fire  for  four.  Their  food  need  not  cost  them 
over  one  shilling  a  day  each,  and  rent  and  fire  combined 
should  not  be  more;  or,  at  the  most,  four  dollars  a 
month.  I  admit  that  it  will  require  the  most  rigid 
economy,  but  not  actual  hardship,  to  accomplish  this 
result;  but  I  actually  believe  our  German  friends,  who 
have  made  economy  a  fine  art,  would  get  a  small  sum  in 
the  savings  bank  besides.  It  is  a  matter  of  constant  sur- 
prise that  people  can  live  in  a  great  city  and  manage  on 
so  little,  and  it  is  the  only  place  where  it  can  be  done. 
The  farmer's  wife  who  throws  a  pan  of  milk  away  to  get 
rid  of  it,  could  not  believe  that  a  pint  of  milk  a  day  is  a 
common  quantity  for  families  in  the  city  who  are  far 
from  poor.  But  they  use  it  in  the  tea  only,  and  that 
sparingly.  The  children  drink  water. 

The  hardest  thing  to  do  with  these  limited  incomes  is 
to  keep  out  of  debt.  A  slip-  shod  way  of  doing  busi- 
ness, on  the  part  of  storekeepers,  permits  the  running 
up  of  accounts,  which  worry  and  harass  when  they  come 
due,  worse  than  any  other  evil.  "Hunger,  cold,  rags, 
suspicion,  hard  work,  unjust  reproach,  are  disagreeable," 
says  Horace  Greeley  in  his  autobiography,  "but  debt 

!  is  infinitely  worse  than  them  all.    Avoid  pecuniary  obli- 

i 


i 

t 
i 
i 
i 


A  GOOD   MANAGER. 


245 


gations  as  you  would  pestilence  or  famine.  If  you  have 
but  fifty  cents,  and  can  get  no  more  for  a  week,  buy  a 
peck  of  corn,  parch  it,  and  live  on  it,  rather  than  owe 
any  one  a  dollar." 


i 


i  * 


HERE  is  always  a  best  way  of  doing  any- 
thing, if  it  be  but  to  boil  an  egg. — Emer- 
son. 

Learn  the  economy  of  the  kitchen. — 
Ruskin. 

A  husband  was  once  called  upon  to 
write  an  epitaph  upon  his  departed  wife. 
He  was  without  education,  and  had  few 
mental  resources,  but  he  had  lived  very 
comfortably  with  his  wife  and  was  deeply 
grieved  at  her  loss,  and  at  first  he  found 
it  impossible  to  select  one  from  any  of  her 
many  virtues  which  would  sufficiently  com- 
memorate her  worth.  The  one  he  decided 
on  at  last  was  this : 

"  Her  picked-up  dinners  were  a  perfect  success." 

Many  a  woman  with  a  more  pretentious  epitaph  has 
liad  a  less  satisfactory  record.  It  is  said  of  the  modern 
belle : 

"  She  had  views  on  co-education, 

And  the  principal  needs  of  the  nation; 
And  her  glasses  were  blue,  and  the  numbers  she  knew 
Of  the  stars  in  each  high  constellation. 

248 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   COOKERY.  247 

And  she  wrote  in  a  handwriting  clerky, 
And  she  talked  with  an  emphasis  jerky; 
And  she  painted  on  tiles,  in  the  sweetest  of  styles, 
But  she  didn't  know  chicken  from  turkey. 

Now,  a  woman  who  didn't  know  chicken  from  turkey 
would  be  a  very  poor  housekeeper,  and  so  the  faculty  of 
at  least  one  college  in  the  United  States  lias  decided. 
The  girls  of  the  junior  class  of  the  Iowa  Agricultural 
College  learn  to  cook  in  the  most  thorough  manner,  as 
the  following  description  will  show :  Every  girl  in  the 
class  has  learned  to  make  good  bread,  and  has  put  her 
knowledge  into  successful  practice,  each  taking  her  turn 
in  mixing,  kneading,  and  baking,  withoat  other  help 
from  the  teacher  than  the  first  lesson  she  received. 
Each  has  also  been  taught  to  make  raised  and  baking- 
powder  biscuit,  pie  crust,  cake  of  various  kinds,  pud- 
dings— to  cook  a  roast  and  broil  a  steak.  All  can  tell 
which  is  the  best  cut  of  beef  for  roasting  or  broiling; 
how  many  minutes  should  be  allowed  for  cooking  a 
pound  of  roast  mutton,  beef,  veal,  or  pork;  how  hot  the 
oven  should  be  for  each;  how  to  prepare  it  for  the  oven, 
and  how  to  attend  to  it  after  it  is  put  therein.  They  can 
give  a  clear  and  accurate  description  of  the  preliminary 
steps  to  be  taken  as  a  preparation  for  any  sort  of  baking. 
They  know  how  to  stuff  and  roast  a  turkey,  make  oyster 
soup,  prepare  stock  for  other  soups,  steam  and  mash 
potatoes,  so  they  will  melt  in  the  mouth,  and,  in  short, 
can  get  up  a  palatable  meal,  combining  both  substantial 
and  fancy  dishes,  in  good  style. 

The  class  will  be  instructed  in  all  the  arts  of  canning 
fruits  and  vegetables;  in  preserving  and  making  jellies; 


248  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

and,  if  it  is  found  to  be  impossible  to  give  practical  les- 
sons in  this  department,  the  theoretical  instruction  will 
be  so  carefully  given  that  the  members  can  be  trusted  to 
can,  pickle,  and  preserve  by  themselves. 

The  indication  in  connection  with  teaching  the  class 
that  gives  the  best  promise  for  their  future  success  as 
cooks,  is  the  genuine  interest  and  enthusiasm  they  have 
constantly  manifested.  The  hard  work  has  been  cheer- 
fully performed.  Wood  has  been  carried,  fires  kept  up, 
and  dishes  washed  with  unvarying  good  humor.  Each 
week's  instruction  has  been  eagerly  received,  and  not  an 
unpleasant  word,  from  first  to  last,  has  marred  the  good 
feeling. 

Outside  of  the  instruction  of  the  kitchen,  these  junior 
girls  have  taken  careful  notes  of  lectures  on  many  topics 
connected  with  household  management,  such  as  house- 
furnishing,  care  of  beds  and  bedding,  washing  and  iron- 
ing, care  of  the  sick,  care  of  children,  etc.  They  have 
prepared  essays  on  similar  topics,  in  a  thoughtful  man- 
ner, that  has  clearly  proven  that  a  genuine  feeling  of. 
appreciation  of  the  tender  and  solemn  responsibilities 
devolving  upon  the  wife  and  mother  has  been  kindled  in 
their  minds.  The  authorities  of  the  college  are  thor- 
oughly in  earnest  in  trying  to  offer  to  girls  a  broad,  sen- 
sible, and  practical  education.  They  give  them  now  the 
best  possible  instruction  in  science,  mathematics,  and 
English  literature,  and  mean  that  some  day  the  depart- 
ment of  domestic  economy  shall  stand  fairly  abreast  of 
these  in  thoroughness  and  efficiency.  If  these  girls  can 
carry  into  all  their  domestic  experiences  the  same  sunny 
temper  and  the  unfailing  industry  and  perseverance  that 


THE  SCIENCE   OF  COOKERY.  249 

they  have  evinced  in  the  experimental  kitchen,  they  will 
brighten  and  adorn  any  homes  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  them  as  mistresses. 

TRAINING  SCHOOL  FOR  COOKS. 

It  has  often  been  said  that  while  we  have  the  best  mar- 
kets in  the  world,  we  have  the  worst  and  most  wasteful 
cooking.  And  although  within  the  last  few  years  much 
interest  has  been  felt  in  England,  in  the  establishment  of 
cooking  schools,  but  little  has  been  done  in  this  country. 
Private  classes  were  opened  in  Boston  about  six  years 
ago,  and  were  well  patronized,  but  the  expense  of  instruc- 
tion was  necessarily  so  large  as  to  close  them  to  persons 
of  small  means.  Miss  Carson,  in  New  York,  and  Miss 
Parloa,  of  Boston,  have  met  with  good  success  in  their 
cooking  schools.  It  is  now  considered  very  desirable  to 
bring  such  teaching  within  the  reach  of  those  who  intend 
to  become  cooks,  and  of  those  girls  who  have  left  our 
grammar  schools,  and  who,  by  learning  to  cook  econom- 
ically, and  to  become  good  housekeepers,  may  do  much 

d  \          to  keep  their  families  above  want. 

Probably  the  best  cooking  school  for  an  ignorant  girl 
is  the  kitchen  of  a  kind  and  intelligent  mistress,  who  is 
willing  to  spend  a  large  part  of  her  life  in  that  best  mis- 
sionary work — training  Irish  and  German  girls  in  ways 
of  thrifty  housewifery.  But,  since  the  days  of  our 
grandmothers,  housekeeping  has  taken  a  new  aspect. 

i]  The  young  mother  once  had  her  kitchen  within  easy 

reach  from  her  nursery,  but  now  a  separation,  by  long 
flights  of  stairs,  makes  it  practically  impossible  that  she 
shall  spend  much  time  in  teaching  her  domestic  to  cook. 


250  WHAT   CA1ST   A  WOMAN"   DO. 

It  is  hoped  that  the  cooking  school,  either  as  an  adjunct 
to  the  college  for  educating  women,  or  a  separate  estab- 
lishment, may  succeed  and  become  a  permanent  institu- 
tion of  great  value  to  families  in  providing  good  cooks; 
that  it  will  be  of  still  greater  benefit  to  many  unem- 
ployed and  poorly  paid  women,  by  providing  a  way  in 
which,  at  small  expense,  they  can  fit  themselves  to 
obtain  comfortable  homes,  and  to  receive  good  wages. 
When  shirts  are  sold  for  fifty  cents,  there  must  be  many  j 

women  working  at  extremely  low  wages.  It  will  be  well 
if  these  can  be  induced  to  fit  themselves  for  domestic 
service. 

The  Grecians  valued  a  cook  so  highly  that  the  head  of 
the  kitchen  department — the  archimageiros  as  he  was 
called — received  the  appointment  of  culinary  artist,  and 
presided  at  all  public  ceremonies.  These  officers  received 
no  salary  as  cooks;  their  fame  was  sufficient  reward. 
"We  alone,"  said  they,  "are  entrusted  by  the  gods 
with  the  secret  of  human  happiness,"  and  so  they 
cheerfully  resigned  all  emolument.  It  is  hard  for  us 
to  imagine  such  a  condition  of  aifairs !  No  salaries ! 
~No  perquisites !  But  we  must  not  credit  them  with 
utter  disinterestedness,  or  forget  that  there  were  many 
prizes  in  the  lottery  for  them.  A  successful  dish,  which 
pleased  the  palate  of  a  senator,  might,  at  any  moment, 
procure  for  the  cook  a  gift  of  priceless  value;  in  any 
case,  applause  and  a  crown  of  flowers  awaited  him;  and 
if  he  invented  a  new  dish  he  received  a  sort  of  patent  for 
it,  no  other  cook  dare  make  it  for  at  least  a  twelve- 
month, and  he  alone  drew  from  it  all  honor  and  profit, 
until  some  rival  successfully  prepared  another  novelty. 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   COOKERY.  251 

When  Mark  Antony  gave  one  of  his  famous  and  his- 
toric suppers  to  Cleopatra,  and  listened  to  the  praises 
the  Egyptian  queen  bestowed  on  the  viands,  he  called 
for  the  cook  and  gave  him  a  city  as  a  recompense. 

The  head  cook  of  Charles  the  VII.  left  to  his  descend^ 
ants  a  valuable  recipe  for  golden  soup,  which  may  inter- 
est the  housewife  of  to-day :  "  Toast,"  he  says,  "  slices 
of  bread,  then  throw  them  into  a  jelly  made  of  sugar, 
yolk  of  egg,  white  wine,  and  rose  water.  When  they 
are  well  soaked  try  them,  and  then  throw  them  again 
into  rose  water,  and  sprinkle  well  with  sugar  and  saff- 
ron." Such  a  soup  would  hardly  satisfy  the  esthetics 
of  to-day. 

Sicilians  made  the  best  cooks  in  olden  times,  and  were 
enjoined  to  remain,  while  the  Romans  offered  incredible 
sums  for  their  services,  the  chief  cook  in  a  Roman  house- 
hold often  receiving  a  salary  equal  to  $4,000  a  year.  This, 
however,  can  be  offset  here  in  our  own  country,  Mrs. 
Vanderbilt  paying  her  head  cook  $7,000  yearly,  while 
there  are  numerous  instances  among  the  wealthy  where 
the  cook  is  paid  $3,000  and  $4,000  a  year.  The  ancients 
gave  a  great  importance  to  the  science  of  gastronomy. 
Their  kitchen  services  were  of  silver,  and  each  dish, 
sauce,  and  gravy  had  a  special  silver  utensil.  Forks 
were  unknown  to  them,  but  silver  spoons  were  abund- 
ant, and  rich  ladles  of  gold  and  silver,  bronze  chafing 
dishes,  silver  cups  and  saucers,  rare  porcelain,  and  all 
the  luxurious  dishes  known  to  the  present  household, 
were  in  use.  Many  relics  which  we  preserve  as  orna- 
ments for  our  parlors  were  kitchen  utensils  of  the  ancient 
Greeks. 


252  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

All  was  elegance,  combined  with  utility,  and  the  same 
feature  of  distinctive  care  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
kitchen  is  shown  in  pictures  and  sketches  of  the  buried 
Pompeii;  the  kitchen  floors  were  tiled,  the  doors  were  of 
rare  woods,  and  the  appurtenances  were  unique  and 
costly.  Cooking  then  ranked  among  the  fine  arts,  while 
in  this  age  of  the  world,  and  in  America,  it  comes  near 
being  one  of  the  lost  arts. 

May  we  not  hope  that  in  the  coming  time  cards  of 
invitation  will  be  sent  out  which  will  read:  "Drill 
exhibition  by  Mrs.  Jones'  class,  in  practical  cooking, 
Dessert  Day;"  or,  an  advertisement  of  Roast  beef,  with 
clear  gravy,  by  the  young  ladies  of  the  Jones  Cooking 
School."  Doctor  Johnson  said  of  his  friend  Mrs.  Carter, 
that  she  could  both  translate  Epictetus  and  make  a  pud- 
ding. The  widow  of  a  courtier  of  Henry  VIII.  was 
rewarded  with  the  gift  of  a  dissolved  priory,  for  some 
fine  puddings  she  had  presented  his  majesty.  The  great 
ladies  of  France  have  not  only  invented  new  dishes  for 
the  table,  but  have  given  their  illustrious  names  to  them, 
Bechamel  sauce  being  a  product  of  a  marquise  of  that 
name,  while  Filets  de  Capereau  a  la  Berry  were  named 
after  the  lady  who  invented  them,  the  Duchess  de  Berry, 
daughter  of  the  Regent  Orleans.  A  writer  on  culture  in 
cooking,  says:  "The  daughters  of  the  wealthy  in  this 
country  often  marry  struggling  men,  and  they  know 
less  about  domestic  economy  than  ladies  of  the  highest 
rank  abroad;  not  because  English  or  French  ladies  take 
more  part  in  housekeeping,  but  because  they  are  at  home 
all  their  lives.  Ladies  of  the  highest  rank  never  go  to  a 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  COOKEKY.  253 

boarding  or  any  other  school,  and  these  are  the  women 
who,  with  some  few  exceptions,  know  best  how  things 
should  be  done."  The  same  writer  says:  "Who  does 
not  remember,  with  affectionate  admiration,  Charlotte 
Bronte  stealthily  taking  the  eyes  out  of  the  potatoes 
for  fear  of  hurting  the  feelings  of  her  purblind  old  ser- 
vant, or,  Margaret  Fuller  shelling  peas." 

One  of  the  important  features  in  the  housekeeping 
department  is  the  kitchen  library.  Every  kitchen 
should  have  its  books  of  reference — not  the  thin  pam- 
phlet, advertising  some  quack  medicine,  with  a  few  hap- 
hazard recipes  thrown  in  to  command  attention — but  a 
whole  set  of  books,  bound  in  oil-cloth,  which  can  be 
washed  off  —  the  cook-books  of  different  countries  — 
ancient  and  modern  cook-books,  and  curious  dishes  and 
feasts,  with  historical  descriptions  of  dinners,  banquets, 
etc.,  with  the  simple  primary  works  of  rudimentary 
cooking.  There  are  some  twenty  or  thirty  recipe  books, 
and  as  many  more  descriptive  and  anecdotal  volumes, 
out  of  which  number  a  good  selection  might  be  made. 
The  Beecher  family  can  furnish  several.  Miss  Catharine 
Beecher  wrote  a  cook-book,  Mrs.  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
has  written  two  or  three  such  domestic  volumes,  and 
Marian  Harland  is  an  accepted  authority  on  all  cooking 
and  housekeeping  topics,  her  books  being  in  constant 
demand.  There  are  also  some  novels  that  are  great  helps 
to  young  housekeepers,  Mrs.  Whitney's  "We  Girls" 
being  one  of  the  most  instructive.  It  is  a  delightful 
book  for  young  girls  to  read,  its  description  of  an  art 
kitchen  being  most  fascinating,  and  its  housekeeping 


254  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

experiments  of  the  most  satisfactory  kind.  In  regard  to 
her  cook-book,  she  says :  "I  revised  that  book  with  the 
proof  in  one  hand  and  the  cooking  stove  in  the  other;" 
and  she  tells  a  funny  story  of  how,  late  one  night, 
feeling  a  little  troubled  for  fear  the  proportions  in  an 
Indian  pudding  were  not  exactly  right,  she  came  down 
stairs,  built  a  fire,  made  and  baked  it,  while  the  rest  of 
the  family  were  unconsciously  asleep. 

Add  to  these  a  book  of  domestic  poems,  and  some- 
where over  the  flour  barrel  or  the  piano — I  am  not  sure 
but  I  would  have  a  piano  in  every  kitchen,  as  one  of  its 
attractive  properties — let  this  verse,  from  grand  George 
Herbert,  be  engraved,  or  embroidered,  or  frescoed: 

"  A  servant  with  this  clause 
Makes  drudgery  divine, 
Who  sweeps  a  room  as  for  thy  laws, 
Makes  that  and  the  action  fine." 

THE  COOKING  SCHOOL  DRESS. 

This  costume  consists  of  a  neat,  short  dress,  with  an 
immense  brown  Holland  or  print  over-apron,  with  waist, 
pockets  and  all  conveniences.  These  aprons  are  inex- 
pensive, and  can,  if  necessary,  be  bought  ready  made  at 
the  Woman's  Exchange,  or  in  large  dry  goods  stores,  and 
keep  the  whole  dress  free  of  dust  or  spot.  A  cap  of  blue 
or  pink  cambric,  or  white  muslin,  protects  the  hair. 
These  caps  are  simply  large,  round  pieces  of  cloth,  into 
which  an  elastic  is  shirred  an  inch  or  so  from  the  edge, 
and  they  cost  only  a  few  cents.  Some  critical  observer 
has  said,  that,  as  a  general  thing,  female  cooks  are  not 
expected  to  be  fit  to  be  seen,  although  male  cooks  have 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  COOKERY.  255 

no  such  privileges  of  disorder  allowed  them.  It  is  a  new 
idea  that  women  are  less  cleanly  and  tidy  than  men,  but 
perhaps  the  truth  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  women 
cooks  are  loaded  with  other  duties.  The  artist  in  cook- 
ing will  be  also  an  artist  in  making  of  herself  a  picture, 
such  as  this  description  from  a  late  novel,  where  the 
scenes  are  laid  in  France :  "  Rue's  dress  was  tucked  up 
and  pinned  behind,  an  immense  coarse  linen  apron  was 
tied  over  it,  she  had  twisted  a  white  handkerchief  round 
her  head  to  prevent  the  flour  getting  into  her  hair,  and 
her  sleeves  were  rolled  above  her  elbows.  But  there 
were  golden  porte-bonhuers  on  the  white  and  shapely 
arms,  and  the  little  feet,  with  their  pink  striped  stock- 
ings and  daintily  buckled  shoes,  could  not  have  belonged 
to  a  Bearnais  peasant  any  more  than  could  the  aristo- 
cratic, delicately  featured  face." 

IDEAL  KITCHENS. 

There  are  kitchens  which  resemble  the  ideal  picture 
which  is  presented  to  us  in  the  novel  or  on  the  stage,  in 
real  homes,  and  they  are  happy,  comfortable  places, 
where  a  neat,  white-handed  woman,  in  picturesque  cos- 
tume, moves  with  gracious  ease  among  the  pots  and 
pans;  where  a  white  loaf  is  cut  on  a  white  table,  such  a 
place  as  we  might  imagine  as  that  in  which  Werther's 
Charlotte  "went  on  cutting  bread  and  butter;"  where 
golden  pots  of  preserves  are  opened  and  inspected,  and 
moulds  of  jelly  turned  out  into  crystal  dishes;  the  pre- 
siding genius  of  such  a  place  can  not  be  otherwise  than 
neat  and  daintly  habited,  for  she  understands  the  science 
of  cooking,  and  invokes  to  her  aid  the  principles  of 


256  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

chemistry,  and  reduces  all  the  forces  of  grease  and  dirt 
by  a  superior  process  of  active  absorption.  Every  pan 
has  its  place;  each  utensil  its  nail  or  closet;  the  holder  is 
omnipresent;  clean  towels  abound;  neat  mats  are  spread 
on  the  floor;  there  is  a  mirror  on  the  wall;  there  are  com- 
fortable chairs  to  sit  on;  the  kitchen  is  the  heart  of  the 
house,  and  if  there  is  disorder  there  it  is  felt  through 
the  entire  system. 

MRS.  GAEFIELD   ON    BREAD-MAKING. 

Mrs.  Lucretia  Garfield,  widow  of  the  president,  wrote 
to  her  husband,  over  ten  years  ago,  in  the  following 
strain : 

"  I  am  glad  to  tell  you,  that  out  of  all  the  toil  and  disappoint- 
ments of  the  summer  just  ended,  I  have  risen  up  to  a  victory; 
that  silence  of  thought,  since  you  have  been  away,  has  won  for 
my  spirit  a  triumph.  I  read  something  like  this  the  other  day: 
*  There  is  no  healthy  thought  without  labor,  and  thought  makes 
the  labor  happy.'  Perhaps  this  is  the  way  I  have  been  able  to 
climb  up  higher.  It  came  to  me  this  morning  when  I  was  mak- 
ing bread.  I  said  to  myself,  *  Here  I  am  compelled,  by  an  inev- 
itable necessity,  to  make  our  bread  this  summer.  Why  not  con- 
sider it  a  pleasant  occupation,  and  make  it  BO,  by  trying  to  see 
what  perfect  bread  I  can  make  ?  It  seemed  like  an  inspiration, 
and  the  whole  of  my  life  grew  brighter.  The  very  sunshine 
seems  flowing  down  through  my  spirit  into  the  white  loaves,  and 
now  I  believe  that  my  table  is  furnished  with  better  bread  than 
ever  before;  and  this  truth,  old  as  creation,  seems  just  now  to 
have  become  fully  mine,  that  I  need  not  be  the  shrinking  slave 
of  toil,  but  its  regal  master,  making  whatever  I  do  yield  its  best 
fruits.' " 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   COOKERY.  257 

The  above  quotation  from  Mrs.  Garfield's  letter  was 
read  by  Professor  Hinsdale  to  the  students  at  Hiram  Col- 
lege, Ohio,  as  an  incentive  to  more  exalted  work,  and  I 
insert  it  here  with  the  hope  that  some  discouraged 
worker,  reading  it,  may  take  heart  and  rise  nobly  to 
fresh  endeavor.  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,"  is 
one  of  the  beautiful  petitions  of  Our  Lord's  Prayer. 
How  often  have  weary  souls  longed  to  add,  with  all  due 
reverence  :  "Give  it  to  us  white  and  light  and  sweet, 
wholesome  and  digestible,  that  we  may  be  comforted 
and  strengthened."  The  meaning  of  the  word  lady  is 
loaf -giver.  Can  there  be  a  more  acceptable  priesthood 
than  this  service  of  love  and  labor — the  token  of  hospi- 
tality— the  badge  of  ladyhood  ?  Some  one  has  curtly 
said  that  it  is  not  passion  or  ill-temper  that  drive  men  to 
commit  murder  or  suicide;  it  is  heavy,  sour  bread,  which 
perverts  the  whole  current  of  being,  and  transforms 
human  beings  into  demons.  Every  woman  has  a  mis- 
sion to  learn  to  make  good  bread,  if  she  would  consider 
the  happiness  of  her  family.  The  newspapers  are  fond 
of  disseminating  such  stories  as  the  following,  at  the 
expense  of  the  girls  who  will  not  make  bread : 

"A  fashionable  young  lady  of  this  city  visited  a  cooking 
school  the  other  afternoon,  when  her  attention  was  equally 
divided  between  a  new  dress,  worn  by  an  acquaintance,  and  the 
directions  for  making  cake.  Upon  returning  home  she  under- 
took to  write  down  the  recipe  for  cake-making  for  her  mother, 
who  found  that  it  read  as  follows: 

"  Take  two  pounds  of  flour,  three  rows  of  plaiting  down  the 
front,  the  whites  of  two  eggs,  cut  bias;  a  pint  of  milk,  ruffle 

around  the  neck,  half  a  pound  of  currants,  seven  yards  of  bead 
17 


258  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

trimming,    grated   lemon  peel,   with    Spanish  lace  fichu.     Stir 
well." 

Her  mother  said  she  thought  these  new-fangled  ideas 
on  cooking  ought  to  be  frowned  down. 

"No,  indeed,  I'm  not  going  to  learn  how  to  make 
bread,"  said  an  Eastern  belle,  "girls  who  know  how  to 
make  bread  generally  marry  men  who  can  not  afford  to 
buy  flour  to  make  it  with,  and  they  have  to  work  in  a 
millinery  shop  to  help  pay  the  board  bill.  I'll  stick  to 
my  fancy  work." 

It  is  related  of  the  Hon.  Philetus  Sawyer,  a  Wisconsin 
senator,  that  he  was  so  well  pleased  with  a  dinner  pre- 
pared entirely  for  him  by  his  two  daughters,  that  he 
gave  to  each  of  them  a  check  for  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars,  a  present  quite  within  his  gift,  as  he  is  a 
millionaire. 

The  thrifty,  economical  German  fathers  have  a  quaint 
and  pretty  way  of  interesting  their  young  daughters  in 
bread-making,  and,  at  the  same  time,  reward  them  for 
their  industry.  They  conceal  numerous  small  silver  coin 
in  the  flour,  and  the  girl  finds  these  in  kneading  the 
bread. 

There  should  be  a  cooking  catechism  published,  with 
such  questions  as  these : 

Can  you  make  a  clear  gravy  ? 

Can  you  make  good  soups  ? 

Can  you  broil  a  beefsteak  \ 

In  how  many  different  ways  can  you  cook  potatoes  ? 

Do  you  know  how  to  roast  meats  properly  ? 

Can  you  make  puddings  \ 

Can  you  make  sauces  \ 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  COOKERY. 

Miss  Julia  Nast,  the  daughter  of  the  well-known  artist, 
Thomas  Nast,  has  for  some  years  presided  over  a  young 
girl's  cooking  association,  at  her  home  in  Morristown, 
New  Jersey,  where,  as  head  cook,  she  displays  true 
artistic  talent,  and  offers  an  example  worthy  of 
emulation. 

COOK   INSTEAD   OF  CLERK. 

A  three  line  notice  of  the  death  of  a  lady,  in  the  city 
papers,  recently,  is  all  the  world  will  know  of  one  whose 
life  was  crowded  with  strange  vicissitudes. 

Her  family  name  was  one  of  rare  distinction  in  the 
record  of  the  revolution.  Her  husband  was  a  naval 
officer  of  merit,  and  she  had  been  a  society  queen  in  the 
past  administration.  In  the  rebellion  everything  was 
swept  from  her  family — husband,  home,  and  money — as 
those  of  her  kindred  had  chosen  their  part  with  the 
South.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  friendless  and  penni- 
less, so  far  as  friends  could  help  her — for  they  were  all 
stranded  together — she  was  not  sufficiently  educated  to 
teach.  She  had  no  accomplishments,  such  as  a  knowl- 
edge of  music  or  languages.  She  had  always  been  fond 
of  housekeeping,  and  possessed  a  practical  knowledge  of 
cooking  in  its  higher  branches.  She  found  here  a  lady, 
unmarried,  who  had  known  her  when  fortune  smiled, 
and  there  she  served  for  sixteen  years;  this  delicately 
nurtured  lady  performed  the  duties  of  cook.  She  hired 
a  colored  woman  to  do  the  washing  and  ironing,  and 
other  laborious  duties,  but  cook  she  remained  to  the  end. 

The  remarkable  part  of  all  this  is,  that  had  her  history 
been  known,  and  her  grandfather's  services  to  the  coun- 
try told,  she  would  have  been  appointed  to  some  position 


260 


WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 


under  the  government;  but  she  preferred  to  remain  in 
the  quiet  and  seclusion  of  her  friend's  kitchen.  This 
woman,  who  had  great  claim  upon  the  country  for  the 
deeds  done  by  her  ancestors,  never  paraded  them,  never 
hung  about  the  Capitol  or  hunted  down  members.  She 
never  traded  upon  the  renown  of  her  grandfather, 
although  his  was  one  to  be  proud  of.  She  went  about 
her  simple  duties  thankful  that  she  could  eat  bread  of 
her  own  earning,  far  from  the  madding  crowd  who  hunt 
for  and  hold  office.  This  brave,  patient  woman  deserves 
a  monument  on  which  should  be  engraved:  "Here 
rests  one  who  chose  rather  to  be  a  cook  than  a  clerk." 


We  may  live  without  poetry,  music  and  art, 
We  may  live  without  conscience  and  live  without  heart, 
We  may  live  without  friends,  we  may  live  without  booka, 
But  civilized  man  can  not  live  without  cooks. 


HERE  is  one  thing  you  mustn't  for- 
get, Tom!" 

"What's  that,  Emma?" 
"Don't  forget  to  go  to  the  registry 
office  and  send  me  a  cook.    The  new 
girl  is  good  for  nothing,  and  the  old 
one  can't  do  everything.     Young  or  old, 
man  or  woman,  I  don't  care,  only  send  me 
up  a  competent  cook  by  ten  o'clock  this 
morning." 

"Don't  look  so  desperate,  Sis;  I'll  re- 
member it.  I  want  things  in  pretty  good 
style  for  Maxwell;  he  is  used  to  it — is  fond 
of  good  dinners;  and  I  guess  I'll  send  you 
a  good,  smart  man  cook,  Emma."  Mr. 
Thomas  Maye  disappeared  with  a  re-assuring  nod.  He 
had  a  proverbially  bad  memory;  pretty  Emma  Maye 
knew  it  very  well,  yet  in  this  desperate  emergency  she 
trusted  him. 

261 


262  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

During  the  two  years  she  had  had  charge  of  her  wid- 
owed brother's  family  they  had  been  blessed  by  the  most 
skillful  of  cooks;  but  Joan  had  taken  a  fancy  to  get  mar- 
ried, and  her  place  was  hastily  supplied  by  one  who  soon 
proved  incapable. 

Just  at  this  juncture  Mr.  Maye  received  tidings  that 
his  dead  wife's  favorite  brother,  Arthur  Maxwell,  just 
returned  from  abroad,  would  pay  him  a  visit.  From  the 
first  Emma  had  been  nervous  over  the  responsibility  of 
entertaining  this  elegant  young  man,  whom  she  had 
never  seen.  She  was  lovely  and  accomplished;  but  she 
could  not  cook — in  fact,  she  had  never  tried. 

It  was  half  past  seven  o'clock  when  Mr.  Maye  went  to 
town.  He  took  nothing  but  a  cup  of  coffee  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  lunched  at  his  favorite  restaurant  at  eleven 
o'clock.  At  half-past  three  o'clock  the  Mayes  dined, 
and  Mr.  Maxwell  was  expected  by  the  ten  minutes  past 
three  o'clock  train. 

"There!"  sighed  Emma,  when,  two  hours  after  her 
brother's  departure,  the  house  was  in  its  usual  exquisite 
order,  and  the  viands  and  flowers  sent  up  for  dinner; 
"if  Tom  doesn't  forget,  and  if  he  sends  up  a  good  cook, 
everything  will  be  nice  enough." 

She  did  not  dare  think  of  the  possibility  of  Tom's  hav- 
ing forgotten,  or  that  of  the  cook  not  coming  for  any 
other  reason;  but  when,  precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  the 
door-bell  rang,  a  secret  weight  was  lifted  from  her  heart. 
She  ran  herself  to  answer  the  summons.  A  medium- 
sized,  well-dressed,  modest-looking  young  man  stood  at 
the  entrance,  and  she  brightened  at  sight  of  him. 

"I  am  very  glad  you  are  so  punctual;  I  was  afraid  I 


THE  NEW  COOK.  263 

should  be  disappointed,"  she  said,  leading  the  way  to 
kitchen  without  an  instant's  delay.  "Let  me  see — ten 
o'clock.  I  shall  have  to  set  you  to  work  at  once  to  pre- 
pare a  first-class  dinner.  We  are  expecting  company 
from  London,  my  cook  has  left  me,  and  I  do  not  myself 
know  anything  about  cooking.  What  is  your  name?" 
literally  bereaving  the  young  man  of  his  hat  and  hang- 
ing it  as  high  out  of  reach  as  possible. 

His  reply  was  rather  faint,  but  she  thought  she 
caught  it. 

"Mac!  You  do  not  look  like  an  Irishman.  But  it 
doesn't  make  any  difference.  Are  you  a  good  cook ?" 

The  smile  of  the  young  man  was  rather  puzzling.  "I'll 
do  my  best,"  he  said  pleasantly. 

"You  see  there's  nothing  in  the  house  but  cold 
chicken,"  continued  Emma,  unconsciously  wringing 
her  little  hands  as  she  continued  to  address  the  new 
cook,  who  certainly  listened  very  attentively.  "  But  my 
brother  has  sent  us  up  some  pigeons — to  be  roasted,  I 
suppose." 

"Yes'm." 

"  Can  you  make  a  celery  salad  ?" 

"I  think  I  can." 

"And  Mayonnaise  sauce  for  the  cold  chicken  1" 

"Yes'm." 

"  Can  you  make  French  soup  ?" 

"lean." 

"Oh,  well,  I  think  you  will  do"  (beginning  to  look 
relieved). 

"  Be  sure  the  vegetables  are  not  overdone,  and  the 
coffee  good — my  brother  is  very  particular  about  his 


264  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

coffee.  And  we  will  have  a  Florentine  pudding  ?"  with 
an  inquiring  look. 

"Yes'm,"  readily. 

The  new  cook  was  already  girding  himself  with  one  of 
the  white  towels  that  lay  on  the  dresser,  and  casting  a 
scrutinizing  glance  at  the  range  fire. 

Quite  re-assured  in  spirit,  Emma  was  turning  away 
when  she  stopped  to  add  : 

"I  will  lay  the  table  myself  to-day,  Mac,  and  fill  the 
fruit-dishes  and  vases;  but  if  you  give  satisfaction  I  will 
intrust  you  with  the  key  of  the  china  closet,  and  you 
will  have  the  entire  care  of  the  table." 

And  with  a  gracious  nod  the  young  lady  withdrew 
from  the  kitchen. 

She  piled  the  fruit  dishes  with  rosy  pears,  golden 
oranges  and  white  grapes;  filled  the  vases  with  roses, 
lilies  and  ferns;  set  clusters  of  dainty  glasses,  filled  with 
amber  jelly,  among  the  silver  and  china,  and  then,  with 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction  at  the  result,  ran  away  to  dress. 

"I'll  not  go  near  the  kitchen  to  even  smell  the  dinner. 
I  don' t  know  anything  about  cooking  it,  and  will  trust  to 
luck.  I  have  an  idea  that  Mac  is  really  capable — is  going 
to  prove  a  treasure.  His  dress  was  so  neat,  and  he  was 
so  quiet  and  respectful,"  concluded  Emma,  leisurely 
arranging  her  hair. 

Her  new  dress,  with  its  abundant  lace  and  cardinal 
ribbons,  was  very  becoming,  and  fitted  the  petite,  round 
figure  so  perfectly,  that  Emma  felt  at  peace  with  all  the 
world. 

"I  have  heard  that  Mr.  Arthur  Maxwell  is  very  fastid- 
ious in  the  matter  of  ladies'  dress,"  mused  Emma,  twisting 


THE  NEW  COOK.  265 

her  head  over  her  shoulder  to  see  the  effect  of  her  sash. 
"I  wonder  what  his  first  impression  of  me  will  be?  I 
should  like  to  have  poor  Ally's  brother  like  me." 

At  length  the  last  bracelet  was  clasped,  the  last  touch 
given,  and,  retiring  backward  from  the  mirror  with  a 
radiant  face,  Emma  turned  and  ran  up  to  the  nursery  to 
see  the  children  dressed  for  company,  and  also  to  speak 
with  the  boys — and,  it  must  be  confessed,  flirt  a  little 
with  Mr.  Vincent,  the  tutor,  who  was  always  at  her  ser- 
vice for  this  exercise. 

There  was  a  delightfully  savory  odor  pervading  the 
house,  when  she  came  down  and  set  out  the  fruits  and 
ice,  and  made  a  few  additions  to  the  table. 

She  looked  at  her  watch — five  minutes  past  three. 
Then  she  went  softly  to  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  listened 
to  the  lively  clatter  in  the  kitchen.  She  could  hear  Mac 
chatting  pleasantly  with  the  little  housemaid,  Nanny, 
and  all  seemed  to  be  well  in  that  direction. 

At  ten  minutes  past  three  she  repaired  to  the  drawing- 
room  and  took  a  seat  overlooking  the  street. 

Carriages  came  and  carriages  went,  but  none  stopped 
at  the  entrance. 

The  little  girls,  brave  in  new  ribbons,  came  down. 

The  boys  and  Mr.  Vincent  came  down. 

Mr.  Maye's  latch-key  rattled  in  the  door,  the  dinner, 
bell  rang. 

"Not  come?"  asked  Mr.  Maye,  at  sight  of  Emma's 
disappointed  face. 

"  No,"  she  pouted,   "  and  such  a  nice  dinner !" 

"Very  strange  !"  mused  that  gentleman,  now  leading 
the  way  into  the  dinner-room.  "I  hadn't  the  least 


266  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN    DO. 

doubt — Why,  my  dear  fellow,"  seizing  by  the  shoulders 
the  new  cook,  who,  acting  also  as  butler,  had  just  placed 
the  soup-tureen  upon  the  table — "my  dear  fellow,  why, 
how  is  this  ?  Emma  declared  you  hadn't  come  !" 

That  young  lady  grew  as  white  as  the  table  cloth,  and 
grasped  a  chair  for  support. 

"  That  Mr.  Arthur  Maxwell  ?  I — I  thought  it  was  the 
cook." 

"I  came  earlier  than  I  expected,  and  in  time  to  make 
myself  useful  to  Miss  Emma,"  laughed  Mr.  Maxwell, 
divesting  himself  of  his  white  towel  and  bowing  with 
grace  to  that  young  lady. 

How  could  she  have  fallen  into  such  an  error  ? 

"I  was  so  terribly  anxious — I  didn't  look  at  you 
twice.  Mr.  Maxwell,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me!" 
stammered  Emma,  as  red  now  as  she  had  been  pale. 

"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  if  my  dinner  turns  out 
well,"  he  added,  laughing,  evidently  the  sweetest  tem- 
pered man  in  the  world.  "  I  learned  to  cook  when  I  was 
a  student  in  Paris — a  Frenchman  taught  me.  I  have 
been  rather  proud  of  my  culinary  skill,  but  I  am  a  little 
out  of  practice  now,  and  am  not  quite  sure  of  the 
Florentine." 

"Emma,"  cried  Mr.  Maye,  "what  does  this  mean?" 

"Why,  John,  you  promised  to  send  me  up  a  man 
cook."  ' 

Mr.  Maye  clasped  his  hands  tragically. 

"Emma,  I  forgot  it." 

"  Well,  he  came  just  at  ten  o'clock.  I  thought  he  was 
the  cook;  I  ushered  him  into  the  kitchen,  among  the 
pots  and  pans.  I  questioned  him  as  to  what  he  knew 


THE  NEW   COOK.  267 

about  cooking.  I  urged  him  to  make  all  haste  and  serve 
the  dinner;  and — and  I  called  him  an  Irishman!"  sob- 
bed Emma,  hysterically. 

"No  offense,  Miss  Emma.  My  grandfather,  on  my 
mother's  side  —  Maj.  Trelawny  —  was  an  Irishman," 
observed  Mr.  Maxwell,  coolly.  "And,  since  I  have 
done  my  best,  won't  you  try  the  soup  before  it  is 
cold?" 

The  others  stared  and  Emma  cried,  but  Mr.  Maye 
laughed — laughed  uproariously. 

"The  best  joke  of  the  season  !  Sit  down,  everybody  ! 
Emma,  you  foolish  girl,  don't  cry.  Arthur  doesn't  care. 
And,  as  for  your  Florentine — Arthur,  tell  Nanny  to 
bring  it  in.  The  proof  of  the  pudding  is  the  eating, 
you  know." 

"Miss  Emma  won't  cry  when  she  tastes  my  soup," 
remarked  Arthur,  ladling  it  out  promptly,  with  an  air 
of  pride. 

And  then  they  fell  to  tasting  and  praising,  and  urging 
Emma  to  taste  and  praise,  until  she  laughed  and  cried 
all  together. 

But  Mr.  Arthur  was  so  delightful,  so  winning  and  so 
witty,  so  kind  to  his  agitated  young  hostess,  and  had 
cooked  such  an  excellent  dinner — from  the  pigeons  to 
the  pudding,  everything  was  perfect. 

By-and-by  Emma  was  herself  again. 

"This  has  taught  me  a  lesson,"  she  said.  "I  never 
will  be  so  desperately  situated  again.  I  will  learn  to 
cook." 

"Let  me  teach  you,"  said  Arthur. 

He  did 


'HERE  is  no  doubt  that  the  board- 
ing-house business  is  a  popular  one, 
look  at  it  from  whatever  side  we  may, 
for  it  gives  the  woman  incapable  of 
doing  anything  else,  a  chance  to  earn 
a  respectable  living,  and  it  gives  the 
people  who  are  without  homes  or  means  to 
establish  them  a  chance  to  live  respectably. 
Like  all  other  business,  it  is  overdone,  and 
it  often  proves  a  dismal  failure  in  the  hands 
of  incompetent  people,  just  as  any  other 
enterprise  does.  There  are  people  who 
are  well  adapted  to  keeping  boarders,  and 
making  money  out  of  them,  in  a  proper 
and  legitimate  way,  and  they  are  not  the 
most  agreeable  characters  to  know,  either,  for  entertain- 
ing guests  at  so  much  a  head  is  certainly  a  rather  demor- 
alizing business.  A  woman  needs  to  be  sharp  and  shrewd 
who  can  cater  successfully  to  a  half  hundred  different 
tastes,  serve  them  all  with  equal  partiality,  listen  to 
their  tales  of  woe,  take  sides  in  their  domestic  differ- 
ences, and  not  let  her  left  hand  lodger  know  what  the 
right  hand  lodger  does  or  says.  She  must  be  blind  to 


268 


KEEPING  BOAKDEKS. 

frowns  and  sneers,  and  deaf  to  complaints,  and  able  to 
read  character  at  a  glance,  so  that  she  may  not  be 
cheated  out  of  board  bills  by  some  systematic  Micawber; 
she  must  harden  her  heart  against  stories  of  unpaid  sal- 
aries and  delayed  remittances,  or  be  unjust  to  herself 
and  her  other  boarders,  who  pay  promptly.  It  is  folly 
to  talk  about  model  boarding  houses,  unless  there  is  a 
community  of  model  boarders  to  fill  it.  In  all  boarding 
houses  the  guests  are  served  with  what  the  best  judg- 
ment of  the  landlady  has  dictated.  It  would  be  a  most 
delightful  state  of  things  if  one  could  have  broiled 
chicken  and  another  broiled  steak,  according  to  their 
individual  tastes;  but  this  is  only  possible  in  restaurants 
conducted  on  the  European  style,  where  each  article  is 
paid  for  at  its  individual  price.  The  wise  landlady 
studies  the  tastes  of  her  boarders  as  far  as  she  can;  she 
gives  them  each  day  a  comfortable  spread  of  such  things 
as  are  in  the  market  and  within  the  limits  of  the  price 
she  pays  for  them,  and  a  majority  of  the  guests  are  sat- 
isfied. But  there  are  some — and  the  captious  critic 
will  at  once  cry  out  that  these  are  women;  yes,  my  dear 
sir,  I  am  afraid  they  are,  with  the  exception  of  an  old- 
maidish  man,  with  the  tastes  of  an  invalid — who  always 
want  something  that  is  not  on  the  table  or  bill  of  fare, 
such  as  toasted  bread  at  dinner,  or  hot  meats  at  supper. 
If  these  things  are  not  immediately  forthcoming  there 
are  complaints  long  and  loud,  and  the  grumbling  indi- 
vidual infects  the  whole  table  with  the  same  spirit. 
There  must  be  a  little  wise  management  here,  and,  if 
within  the  bounds  of  reason,  the  boarder's  tastes  should 
be  consulted  and  the  favorite  dish  prepared,  for  this 


270  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

involves  the  principle  of  home.  One  man  or  woman  can 
not  eat  hot  bread,  so  a  plate  of  the  cold  article  is  placed 
near.  It  gives  a  little  more  work  to  the  tired  waiters, 
but,  to  look  at  it  financially,  it  will  probably  pay  in  the 
end.  "But,"  says  some  envious  boarder,  "this  is  being 
partial." 

Not  at  all;  because  you  can  not  get  home  to  dinner  a 
plate  of  hot  viands  is  in  the  oven  for  you,  and  the  bal- 
ance is  struck. 

Nearly  all  boarding  houses  are  kept  by  women.  It 
is  an  established  fact,  that  men  are  unsuccessful  and 
unpopular  in  the  business.  They  have  neither  the  pru- 
dence or  the  patience  to  contend  with  the  many  difficul- 
ties in  the  way.  In  the  best  kept  boarding  house  the 
landlady  is  never  seen,  except  when  business  requires 
her.  She  has  her  own  room,  which  is  also  her  office, 
and  boarders  go  there  to  see  her,  engage  board,  pay  bills, 
or  make  complaints.  She  takes  no  one  without  special 
reference,  and  aims  at  having  her  people  of  a  social 
equality,  and  of  such  financial  standing  as  will  ensure 
their  bills  being  promptly  paid.  She  will  be  able  to 
cater  to  their  wants  much  easier  if  free  from  anxiety  on 
this  head;  and  if  she  has  discrimination  she  will  soon 
learn  what  kind  of  a  table  to  set.  If  they  pay  hand- 
somely she  can  have  her  house  well  furnished,  and  keep 
it  in  repair;  but  the  average  boarder  pays  only  for  what 
there  is  to  eat;  the  price  does  not  include  new  Brussels 
carpet  in  the  halls  every  spring,  and  a  luxurious  air  of 
hot  house  prosperity.  The  thread-bare  carpets  and  worn 
furniture,  familiar  to  all  who  have  ever  lived  in  large 
boarding  houses,  are  not  the  results  of  a  penurious  dis- 


KEEPING   BOARDERS.  271 

position,  'but  of  actual  necessity.  There  is  nothing  left 
when  the  rent,  fuel,  and  food,  with  gas,  wages,  and  inci- 
dental expenses,  to  which  the  arrears  of  impecunious 
boarders  must  be  added,  not  even  enough  to  give  the, 
patient,  over- worked  landlady  a  new  dress.  She  is  only 
too  thankful  that  she  has  earned  food  and  shelter  for 
herself  and  family,  and  not  run  in  debt.  Boarders  sel- 
dom take  this  into  consideration. 

If  a  woman  owns  her  house  she  has  a  better  chance  to 
make  a  little  profit;  and  if  she  is  unscrupulous  and 
cheats  her  trades-people,  she  saves  enough  to  retire 
upon,  but  the  actual  experience  of  all  boarding  house 
keepers  is  about  the  same.  If,  by  the  closest  good  man- 
agement, they  can  pay  expenses,  they  consider  them- 
selves fortunate.  There  are  some  people  who  always 
manage  to  get  their  board  at  cost  price,  and  these  are 
usually  the  ones  who,  after  a  while,  neglect  to  pay  at  all. 
Every  landlady  suffers  from  these  irregular  people,  who 
expect  to  live  comfortably  at  the  expense  of  others,  and 
usually  manage  to  do  so. 

Having  decided  that  there  must  be  a  certain  uniform 
system  about  the  table,  on  the  basis  which  is  equally 
removed  from  niggardliness  or  extravagance,  the  next 
item  of  regard  is  the  cooking,  and  this  can  give  a  charac- 
ter to  a  boarding  house  just  as  decidedly  as  the  guests. 
Eternal  vigilance  is  the  price  of  a  good  table,  as  much  as 
it  is  of  liberty.  The  table  cloths  and  napkins  must  be 
spotless  for  the  dinner  table — if  they  can  not  be  changed 
at  each  meal — the  silver  and  glasses  highly  polished,  the 
food  well  cooked  and  savory.  The  vegetables  cooked  in 
boarding  houses  are  usually  abominable,  and  an  investi- 


272  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

gation  into  the  matter  discloses  the  fact  that  in  nine 
times  out  of  ten  the  vegetable  cook  is  a  slatteringly  girl 
who  knows  nothing  about  the  business,  and  is  hardly 
competent  to  wash  a  pan  full  of  potatoes  properly.  She 
pares  the  potatoes  without  washing  them  first,  to  save 
trouble,  and  puts  them  on  in  cold  water,  to  soak  and 
simmer,  or  else  she  hurries  them  over  the  fire  and  cooks 
them  at  a  galloping  boil,  taking  them  off  with  a  "  bone 
in  the  middle."  There  are  as  many  different  ways  of 
cooking  potatoes  as  there  are  days  in  the  week,  but  the 
average  boarding  house  finds  it  too  much  trouble,  or, 
rather,  the  servants  do.  It  is  certainly  one  woman's 
work  to  attend  to  the  vegetables  alone  and  cook  them  as 
they  should  be  cooked.  Who  does  not  recall  the  mashed 
potatoes  of  home  as  compared  with  those  of  the  boarding 
house,  with  a  yearning  sense  of  loss.  And  how  different 
the  black,  soggy  mass  called  fried  potatoes  from  the 
crisp,  brown  slices  that  mother  cooked.  True,  there 
are  a  great  many  more  to  cook  for,  but  the  one  woman 
can  easily  do  it.  And  the  strong  grease  in  which  they 
are  usually  cooked  is  one  of  the  penny-wise-pound- 
foolish  habits  of  the  woman  who  despises  the  day  of 
small  things. 

Marketing  judiciously  is  another  of  the  branches 
which  a  woman,  who  would  be  successful  in  it,  must 
study  and  understand.  The  woman  who  pays  ready 
money  for  all  she  buys  will  save  a  large  per  centage  on 
her  purchases.  She  should  have  her  marketing  always 
done  a  week  in  advance,  or  nearly  so;  that  is,  she  should 
select  her  steaks  and  roasts  of  beef  for  Thursday  on  Mon- 
day, and  have  it  hung  in  the  ice-room.  The  fish  for  Wed- 


KEEPING  BOAKDERS.  273 

nesdays  and  Fridays  should  be  decided  on  the  same  day. 
The  poultry  for  Thursdays  and  Sundays  engaged  regu- 
larly from  a  poulterer  who  knows  his  customer  and  dare 
not  supply  an  inferior  article,  and  so  on  with  all  other 
supplies.  And  let  her  vary  the  monotony,  of  a  uniform 
day  for  fish  and  fowl,  by  giving  her  boarders  a  surprise. 
A  supper  of  tenderloin  steaks  and  escalloped  potatoes, 
or  a  New  England  Sunday  breakfast  of  baked  beans  and 
brown  bread,  with  baked  apples  and  fried  mush,  or  a 
dinner  course  of  oysters  and  celery,  on  some  day  that  is 
not  Sunday.  Instead  of  the  stewed  prunes,  prunelles, 
dried  peaches  and  apple  sauce,  which  figure  over  and 
over  on  the  boarding  house  table,  let  her  have  fresh 
canned  peaches  and  cream,  preserves,  apples  quartered 
and  dropped  into  a  boiling  syrup  of  white  sugar,  fla- 
vored with  lemon,  and  some  of  the  home  dishes,  cus- 
tards and  floating  islands  that  are  so  grateful  to  the  eyes 
and  delicious  to  the  taste.  A  house  that  has  a  reputa- 
tion of  this  kind  is  always  filled  with  boarders.  Hot 
Graham  gems  and  a  cup  of  fragrant,  yellow  coffee  for 
supper  will  prove  a  great  innovation  upon  bakers'  toast 
and  weak,  sloppy  tea.  It  will  require  more  labor  and 
forethought,  but  when  that  woman  wants  to  sell  the 
good  will  of  the  business  she  will  realize  its  full  value 
in  dollars  and  cents,  and  she  will  never  need  to  adver- 
tise for  boarders.  A  mechanics'  boarding  house  fre- 
quently pays  better  than  the  aristocratic  one  which  has 
a  high  rent  and  much  style  to  contend  with.  Clean  beds 
and  a  good  table  are  the  principal  requisites;  the  cook- 
ing good  but  plain.  The  men  usually  have  good  appe- 
tites and  make  a  vigorous  attack  on  the  substantial, 

18 


274 


WHAT   CA1ST  A    WOMAN   DO. 


and  care  more  for  quantity  than  quality.  They  have 
been  used  to  homes,  and  like  the  landlady  to  preside  in 
the  dining  room  and  look  after  their  comfort  herself,  and 
they  are  usually  good  pay.  In  all  large  cities  where 
rent  is  high,  a  few  boarders  are  taken  in  the  family  to 
help  out.  It  is  not,  as  a  general  thing,  pleasant  to  board 
in  a  private  family  where  the  boarder  is  one  of  them- 
selves and  has  "  all  the  comforts  of  a  home"  It  means 
going  without  fire  in  one's  room  and  feeling  like  an 
intruder  in  the  family  circle — to  taking  pot-luck  on 
Mondays  and  Saturdays,  and  getting  dinner  down  town 
whenever  the  girl  leaves  or  has  the  sulks.  There  is  also 
a  certain  amount  of  patronage  bestowed  on  the  family 
boarder,  who  is  made  to  feel  the  great  privilege  of  being 
received  into  the  bosom  of  so  highly  respected  a  family, 
who  only  take  boarders  for  company.  This  method  of 
doing  business  is  as  silly  as  the  announcement  of  the 
young  man  who  desires  to  enter  a  home  where  his  society 
will  be  an  equivalent  for  his  board.  Boarders  are  not 
guests.  If  they  could  not  pay  for  the  privilege  of  being 
one  of  the  family  they  would  soon  be  required  to  leave. 

Business  principles  should  control  in  this  matter.  If 
the  boarder  grows  into  the  family  and  finds  a  place  in 
the  regard  of  its  members,  it  will  be  the  happy  result 
of  good  sense  and  congeniality  between  them,  and  thrice 
happy  is  the  wayworn  wanderer  who  finds  such  a  haven 
of  rest. 

The  ideal  boarding  house  is  the  one  where  the  land- 
lady has  no  time  to  gossip  about  her  boarders;  where 
she  does  not  assume  the  management  of  their  domestic 
affairs;  where  the  elements  of  tattling  and  backbiting 


KEEPING  BOARDEKS.  275 

never  gain  entrance;  in  short,  where  a  community  of 
ladies  and  gentlemen  manage  their  housekeeping  on  the 
co-operative  plan  and  meet  at  one  common  table,  where 
they  can  enjoy  each  other's  company  socially.  Every 
room  is  a  home — a  castle  to  its  temporary  owner.  The 
landlady  is  the  queen  of  the  realm,  and  she  needs  to  be 
wise  and  gracious  in  her  rule  if  she  would  have  loyal 
subjects. 

Much  has  been  said  about  the  lack  of  home  comfort  in 
a  boarding  house,  and  the  meagre  furniture  of  rooms 
offered  for  inspection.  But  it  remains  for  the  boarder 
who  takes  possession  to  transform  the  bare  room  into  a 
home,  to  magnetize  the  walls  with  an  atmosphere  of  love 
and  contentment.  The  landlady  who  furnishes  her  house 
does  not  know  whom  she  is  furnishing  for,  what  style  of 
chairs  and  sofas  the  new  comers  would  prefer,  or  if  she 
may  not  be  obliged  to  hustle  her  own  furniture  into  the 
attic  to  make  room  for  the  household  goods  of  the  new 
boarders.  It  is  desirable  that  the  room  should  be  clean 
— thoroughly  clean,  and  the  bed  in  good  order — plenty 
of  towels  and  fresh  water,  and  a  cake  of  genuine  soap. 
Any  attempt  at  parsimony  will  be  a  bad  stroke  of  policy 
to  begin  with.  As  heaven  has  never  yet  been  realized 
upon  earth,  it  would  be  vain  to  look  for  it  even  in  the 
ideal  boarding  house,  the  projector  of  which  has  an 
urgent  need  of  dollars  and  cents  as  a  basis  on  which  to 
found  it.  The  only  way  in  which  she  can  realize  success 
is  to  conduct  it  on  the  best  business  system,  making  her 
labor  yield  a  fair  profit.  There  is  no  doubt  that  there  is 
money  in  it. 


arv 


T  was  a  scandal,"  the  neighbors 
said,  "that  Miss  Delia  should  be 
obliged  to  take  boarders,  after  all 
she'd  been -through;  and  Heaven 
knows,  boarders  did  not  help  a 
body  to  work  out  her  salvation. 
And  so  much  money  in  the  fam- 
ily, too,  taking  it  by  small  and  large.  Wasn'  t 
her  uncle  Eben,  over  at  Dover,  well- to  do,  and 
not  a  chick  of  his  own  to  care  for  except  the 
boy  he  had  adopted,  who  was  no  credit  to 
him  ?  It  was  odd,  now,  that  a  man  with  poor 
relations  should  take  to  a  stranger  when  his 
own  flesh  and  blood  was  needy;  but  some- 
times it  does  seem  as  if  folks  had  more  feel- 
ing for  others  than  for  their  own  kith  and  kin.  Then 
there  were  cousins  in  the  city,  forehanded  and  fashion- 
able, who  were  never  worth  a  row  of  pins  to  Delia,  and 
there  was  her  great-uncle  John's  widow  a-larkin'  on  the 
continent,  a-gamin'  at  Baden-Baden,  and  trying  the 
waters  of  every  mineral  spring  in  the  three  kingdoms, 
for  no  disease  under  the  sun  but  old  age.  She  had  been 

276 


STORY   OF   A   SUMMER   BOARDER.  277 

known  to  say  that  her  folks  were  too  rich  already,  and 
probably  she  would  endow  some  hospital  with  her  prop- 
erty." Evidently,  wealthy  relatives  were  of  no  value 
to  Miss  Delia.  To  be  sure,  she  had  never  seen  her 
great-aunt  since  she  was  a  child,  when  her  uncle  John 
had  brought  her  into  their  simple  life  for  a  month's 
visit,  with  her  French  maid  and  dresses,  her  jewels  and 
fallals,  which  won  the  heart  of  her  namesake.  Since 
then  uncle  John's  widow  had  become  a  sort  of  gilded 
creation,  always  young  and  beautiful;  for,  though  Delia 
had  received  little  gifts  from  time  to  time  across  the  seas 
for  the  last  fifteen  years,  she  had  neither  heard  nor  seen 
anything  of  the  being  who  had  inspired  her  youthful 
imagination,  and  was  quite  uncertain  if  such  a  person  as 
Mrs.  John  Rogerson  was  in  the  land  of  the  living.  Dead 
or  alive,  she  seemed  to  have  made  no  material  difference 
to  Delia's  humdrum  life.  After  having  nursed  her  father 
through  a  long  sickness,  Delia  found  that  he  had  left  a 
heavy  mortgage  on  the  homestead,  and  her  mother  and 
herself  on  the  high  road  to  the  poorhouse,  unless  they 
should  bestir  themselves.  As  her  mother  was  already 
bedridden,  the  stirring  naturally  fell  upon  Delia,  and 
she  advertised  for  summer  boarders : 

GOOD  BOARD  in  the  country  near  the  river  side,  at  $7 
a  week.    Large  chambers,  broad  piazzas,  fine  views,  ber- 
ries and  new  milk.     One  mile  from  the  station. 

Address  DELIA  ROGERSON, 

Croftaborough,  Me. 

"Cheap  enough!"    commented  an  elderly  lady  who 
happened  upon  it.     "Delia  Rogerson.     An  old  maid,  I 


278  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

suppose,  obliged  to  look  out  for  herself.  I've  a  good 
mind  to  try  her  broad  piazzas  and  new  milk.  If  I  don' t 
like  it  there'll  be  no  harm  done." 

And  so  Delia's  first  boarder  arrived — an  old  lady  with 
false  front  hair,  brown  wrinkled  skin,  faded  eyes,  a  black 
alpaca  gown  and  a  hair  trunk.  Delia  made  her  as  wel- 
come as  if  she  had  been  a  duchess;  lighted  a  fire  in  Mrs. 
Clement's  room,  as  the  night  was  damp,  and  brought  out 
her  daintiest  cup  and  saucer,  with  the  fadeless  old  roses 
wreathing  them.  "Wonderfully  kind,"  reflected  Mrs. 
Clement,  as  she  combed  out  her  wisps  of  gray  hair  and 
confided  the  false  front  to  a  box.  "Wonderful  kind- 
ness for  $7  a  week.  She's  new  to  the  trade.  She'll 
learn  better.  Human  nature  doesn't  change  with  lati- 
tudes. She'll  find  it  doesn't  pay  to  consider  the  com- 
forts of  a  poverty-stricken  old  creature."  But  in  spite 
of  her  worldly  wisdom,  Mrs.  Clement  was  forced  to  con- 
fess that  Delia  had  begun  as  she  meant  to  hold  out, 
though  other  boarders  came  to  demand  her  attention 
and  to  multiply  her  cares.  The  fret  and  jar  of  conflict- 
ing temperaments  under  her  roof  was  a  new  experience 
to  Delia.  When  Mrs.  Griscome  complained  of  the  mos- 
quitoes, with  an  air  as  if  Miss  Rogerson  were  responsible 
for  their  creation;  of  flies,  as  if  they  were  new  acquaint- 
ances; of  want  of  appetite,  as  though  Delia  had  agreed 
to  supply  it  along  with  berries  and  new  milk;  of  the 
weather,  as  if  she  had  pledged  herself  there  would  be 
no  sudden  changes  to  annoy  her  boarders;  of  the  shabby 
house  and  antiquated  furniture,  "too  old  for  comfort, 
and  not  old  enough  for  fashion" — then  Delia  doubted  if 
taking  boarders  was  her  mission.  "What  makes  you 


STORY   OF   A   SUMMER  BOARDER.  279 

keep  us,  my  dear?"  asked  Mrs.  Clement,  after  a  day 
when  everything  and  everybody  had  seemed  to  go 
wrong.  "Why  didn't  you  ever  marry?  You  had  a 
lover,  I  dare  say  ?" 

"Yes,  a  long,  long  time  ago." 

"Tell  me  about  him— it?" 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell.  He  asked  me  to  marry 
him.  He  was  going  to  Australia.  I  couldn't  leave 
father  and  mother,  you  know  (they  were  both  feeble), 
and  he  couldn't  stay  here.  That's  all.' 

"And  you — you  ?" 

"  Now  all  men  beside  are  to  me  like  shadows." 

"And  have  you  never  heard  of  him  since  ?" 

"Yes.  He  wrote;  but  where  was  the  use?  It  could 
never  come  to  anything.  It  was  better  for  him  to  forget 
me  and  marry.  I  was  a  millstone  about  his  neck.  I 
didn't  answer  his  letter." 

"And  supposing  he  should  return  some  day,  would 
you  marry  him?" 

"I  dare  say,"  laughed  Delia,  gently,  as  if  the  idea 
were  familiar,  "let  the  neighbors  laugh  ever  so  wisely, 
I've  thought  of  it  sometimes  sitting  alone,  when  the 
world  was  barren  and  commonplace.  One  must  have 
recreation  of  some  kind,  you  know.  Everybody  requires 
a  little  romance,  a  little  poetry,  to  flavor  everyday  think- 
ing and  doing.  I  am  afraid  you  think  me  a  silly  old 
maid,  Mrs.  Clement." 

"No.  The  heart  never  grows  old.  The  skin  shriv- 
els, the  color  departs,  the  eyes  fade,  the  features  grow 
pinched;  but  the  soul  is  heir  of  eternal  youth — it  is  as 
beautiful  at  fourscore  as  at  'sweet  twenty.'  Time 


280  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

makes  amends  for  the  ravages  of  the  body  by  develop- 
ing the  spirit.  You  didn't  tell  me  your  lover's  name. 
Perhaps  you  would  rather  not." 

"His  name  was  Stephen  Langdon.  Sometimes  Capt. 
Seymour  runs  against  him  in  Melbourne,  and  brings  me 
word  how  he  looks  and  what  he  is  doing,  though  I  never 
ask,  and  Stephen  never  asks  for  me  that  I  can  hear." 

Delia's  summer  boarders  were  not  a  success,  to  be 
sure.  If  they  took  no  money  out  of  her  pocket,  they 
put  none  in.  She  was  obliged  to  eke  out  her  support  by 
copying  for  lawyer  Dunmore,  and  embroidering  for  Mrs. 
Judge  Door.  One  by  one  her  boarders  dropped  away 
like  autumn  leaves;  all  but  old  Mrs.  Clement. 

"  I  believe  I'll  stay  on,"  she  said.  "I'm  getting  too 
old  to  move  often.  Perhaps  you  take  winter  boarders 
at  reduced  rates.  Eh  ?" 

' '  Do  you  think  my  rates  high  ?" 

"  By  no  means.     But  when  one's  purse  is  low —  " 

"Yes;  I  know.  Do  stay  at  your  own  price.  I  can't 
spare  you."  She  had  grown  such  a  fondness  for  the  old 
lady  that  to  refuse  her  at  her  own  terms  would  have 
seemed  like  turning  her  own  mother  out  of  doors; 
besides,  one  mouth  more  would  not  signify.  But  she 
found  it  hard  to  make  both  ends  meet,  and  often  went 
to  bed  hungry,  that  her  mother  and  Mrs.  Clement  might 
enjoy  enough,  without  there  appearing  to  be  "just  a 
pattern."  At  Christmas,  however,  came  a  ray  of  sun- 
shine for  Delia,  in  the  shape  of  a  $100  bill  from  an 
unknown  friend. 

"It  can't  be  meant  for  me,"  she  cried. 

"It's  directed  to  Delia  Eogerson,"  said  her  mother; 


STORY   OF  A   SUMMER  BOARDER.  281 

"and  there's  nobody  else  of  that  name,  now  that  your 
Aunt  Delia's  dead." 

"  We  are  not  sure  she's  dead,"  objected  Delia. 

"Horrors!  Don't  you  know  whether  your  aunt  is 
dead  or  alive?"  asked  Mrs.  Clement,  in  a  shocked  tone. 

"It  isn't  our  fault.  She  is  rich  and  lives  abroad.  I 
was  named  for  her.  I  used  to  look  in  the  glass  and  try 
to  believe  I'  d  inherit  her  beauty  with  the  name,  though 
she  was  only  our  great -uncle's  wife." 

"  She  ought  to  be  doing  something  for  you." 

"  How  can  she  if  she  is  dead  I  I  don't  blame  her,  any- 
way. Her  money  is  her  own,  to  use  according  to  her 
pleasure.  Uncle  John  made  it  himself  and  gave  it  to 
her." 

"But  if  she  should  come  back  to  you,  having  run 
through  with  it,  you'd  divide  your  last  crust  with  her, 
I'll  be  bound." 

"  I  suppose  I  should,"  replied  Delia. 

The  winter  wore  away  as  winters  will,  and  the  mira- 
cles of  spring  began  in  fields  and  wayside,  and  Delia's 
boarders  returned  with  the  June  roses,  and  dropped 
away  again  with  the  falling  leaves,  and  still  Mrs.  Cle- 
ment stayed  on.  Just  now  she  had  been  some  weeks  in 
arrears  with  her  reduced  board.  No  money  had  been 
forthcoming  for  some  time,  and  she  was  growing  more 
feeble  daily,  needed  the  luxuries  of  an  invalid  and  the 
attention  of  a  nurse,  both  of  which  Delia  bestowed  upon 
her,  without  taking  thought  of  the  morrow. 

"I  must  hear  from  my  man-of-business  to-morrow, 
Delia;  I'm  knee-deep  in  debt  to  you,"  she  began  one 
night. 


282  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

"Don't  mention  it,"  cried  Delia.  "I'd  rather  never 
see  a  cent  of  it  than  have  you  take  it  to  heart.  You  are 
welcome  to  stay  and  share  pot-luck  with  us,  you  are 
such  company  for  mother  and  me." 

"Thank  you,  my  dear.  I've  grown  as  fond  of  you  as 
if  you  were  my  own  flesh  and  blood.  There,  turn  down 
the  light.  Draw  the  curtain,  dear,  and  put  another  stick 
on  the  fire,  please.  It  grows  chilly,  doesn't  it?  You 
might  kiss  me  just  once,  if  you  wouldn't  mind.  It's 
one  hundred  years  or  so  since  any  one  kissed  me." 

And  next  morning  when  Delia  carried  up  Mrs.  Cle- 
ment' s  breakfast  her  boarder  lay  cold  and  still  upon  the 
pillows. 

The  first  shock  over,  Delia  wrote  to  the  lawyer  of 
whom  she  had  heard  Mrs.  Clement  speak  as  having 
charge  of  her  affairs,  begging  him  to  notify  that  lady's 
relatives,  if  she  had  any.  In  reply,  Mr.  Wills  wrote: 

"The  late  Mrs.  Clement  appears  to  have  no  near  rela- 
tives. Some  distant  cousins,  who  have  an  abundance  of 
the  world's  goods,  yet  served  her  shabbily  when  she 
tested  their  generosity  as  she  has  tried  yours,  are  all 
that  remain  of  her  family.  In  the  meantime  I  enclose 
you  a  copy  of  her  last  will  and  testament,  to  peruse  at 
your  leisure." 

"  What  interest  does  he  think  I  take  in  Mrs.  Clement's 
will,"  thought  Delia,  but  she  read,  nevertheless: 

Being  of  sound  mind,  this,  the  16th  day  of  June,  18 — , 
I,  Delia  Rogerson  Clement,  do  hereby  leave  $100  to  each 
of  my  cousins;  and  I  bequeath  the  residue  of  my  prop- 
erty, viz.,  $30,000  invested  in  the  Ingot  Mining  Com- 
pany, $50,000  in  United  States  bonds,  $20,000  in  the  For- 


STOKY   OF   A   SUMMER   BOARDER.  283 

tunate  Flannel  Mills,  and  my  jewels,  to  the  beloved 
niece  of  my  first  husband,  John  Rogerson,  Delia  Roger- 
son,  of  Croftsborough,  Me. 

For  I  was  a  stranger  and  ye  took  me  in;  hungry,  and 
ye  fed  me;  sick  and  ye  ministered  unto  me. 

"  Goodness  alive  !"  cried  the  neighbors,  when  the  fact 
reached  their  ears,  "  what  a  profitable  thing  it  is  to  take 
boarders.  Everybody  in  town  will  be  trying  it.  Of 
course  Steve  Langdon  will  come  and  marry  her,  if  she 
were  forty  old  maids.  You  may  stick  a  pin  in  there  !" 

Delia  did  not  open  her  house  to  boarders  the  next  sea- 
son. She  found  enough  to  do  in  looking  after  her  money 
and  spending  it;  in  replying  to  letters  from  indigent  peo- 
ple, who  seemed  to  increase  alarmingly;  in  receiving  old 
friends,  who  suddenly  found  time  to  remember  her  exist- 
ence. And,  sure  enough,  among  the  rest  appeared  Steve 
Langdori,  and  all  the  village  said:  "I  told  you  so." 

"It's  not  my  fault  that  you  and  I  are  single  yet, 
Delia,"  he  said. 

"And  we  are  too  old  to  think  of  it  now,  Steve." 

"Nonsense!  It's  never  too  late  to  mend.  I'm  not 
rich,  Delia,  but  I've  enough  for  two  and  to  spare." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  contented  not  to  drive  in  my  carriage 
and  have  servants  under  me  now,"  laughed  Delia. 

"Indeed  !  Then,  perhaps,  you  have  a  better  match  in 
view.  Capt.  Seymour  asked  me,  by  the  way,  if  I  had 
come  to  interfere  with  Squire  Jones'  interest." 

"  Yes,  Squire  Jones  proposed  to  me  last  week." 

"Now,  see  here,  Delia.  Have  I  come  all  the  way  from 
Melbourne  on  a  fool' s  errand  \  There  I  was  growing  used 
to  my  misery  and  loneliness,  when  the  mail  brings  me  a 


284  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

letter  in  a  strange  hand,  which  tells  me  that  my  dear 
love,  Delia  Rogerson,  loves  and  dreams  of  me  still,  is 
poor  and  alone,  and  needs  me — me !  And  the  letter  is 
signed  by  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Clement,  who  ought  to  know. 
I  packed  my  household  goods  and  came." 

"I'm  glad  that  you  did." 

"  In  order  that  I  may  congratulate  '  Squire  Jones  ?' ' 

"But  I  haven't  accepted  him.  In  fact,  I've  refused 
him — because — because —  " 

"Because  you  will  marry  your  old  love,  like  the  lass 
in  the  song,  Delia  ?" 

In  Croftsborough,  people  are  not  yet  tired  of  telling 
how  a  woman  made  money  by  taking  boarders. 


lue  •  ej  • 


epserjct 


l  • 


YOUNG  woman  entering  upon  a 
business  life  must  ask  and  answer 
one  question  almost  at  its  outset : 
"  Shall  she  go  into  society  or  not  ?" 
By   society    I    mean    the    parties, 
weddings,  receptions,  dinners,  and 
lunches,  which  make  up  the  exist- 
ence of  merely  fashionable  women.     If  she  has 
a  large  and  influential  acquaintance  she  will 
necessarily  be  invited  out  a  great  many  times, 

she  will  be  obliged  to  dress  correspondingly 
well,  and  her  dress  will  naturally  demand 
some  time  and  attention,  as  well  as  a  good 
deal  of  money.  Social  life,  parties  and  balls 
will  keep  her  up  late  at  night  and  tax  her  strength,  and 
the  question  to  herself  will  be,  whether  she  will  be  able 
to  meet  the  demands  of  society  and  of  business,  and  pre- 
serve her  health  ?  Here,  again,  the  frequent  theory  of 
women's  ability  to  overwork  intrudes  itself.  There  can 
be  no  possible  doubt  that  if  she  is  engaged  eight  hours  a 

285 


286  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

day,  in  any  kind  of  work,  she  will  do  better  to  ignore 
society,  and  rest  in  the  evenings;  but  if 

All  work  and  no  play 
Makes  Jack  a  dull  boy, 

will  it  not  apply  equally  well  to  Jill  ?  Only  Jack  has 
the  strength  and  Jill  has  not. 

A  compromise  can  be  made  by  going  out  occasionally, 
and  not  attempting  to  compete  with  the  women  who  have 
nothing  to  do,  and  by  not  keeping  excessively  late  hours. 
One  rich,  dark  silk,  made  with  an  evening  waist  and 
worn  with  a  change  of  laces  and  flowers,  a  cream- 
white  dotted  muslin  and  an  illusion  over-dress  will  be 
all  sufficient  for  a  season,  with  a  supply  of  fresh  gloves, 
and  will  look  much  better,  even  if  worn  frequently,  than 
a  new,  cheap,  hastily  gotten  together  evening  dress. 
When  there  is  only  one  silk  it  should  be  either  black  or 
a  dark  olive  or  blue,  as  a  vivid,  new  color  will  be  so  con- 
spicuous that  the  wearer  will  soon  be  known  by  it, 
and  there  will  be  some  one  ill-natured  enough  to  say, 
"  There  goes  that  everlasting  sunflower  yellow  silk  of 

Miss 's."     Black  can  be  worn  with  masses  of  pink 

garniture,  upon  one  occasion,  with  pink  gloves;  with  white 
upon  another  with  white  gloves;  with  masses  of  mixed 
flowers  and  deep  orange  gloves;  and  it  will  always  look 
handsome.  Then  it  can  be  a  dead  black  toilet — quanti- 
ties of  black  lace,  black  gloves,  and  coral  or  gold  jew- 
elry as  an  effect.  One  of  the  most  elegant  toilets  I  ever 
saw  was  a  black  silk,  draped  and  trimmed  with  water 
lilies,  and  worn  with  pale  green  gloves  that  reached 
above  the  elbows.  It  is  by  no  means  the  expense  of  a 
costume  that  makes  it  elegant.  There  are  hundreds  of 


THE  VALUE   OF  PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  287 

dowdy  women  at  parties  who  are  elaborately  dressed 
and  loaded  with  diamonds,  and  there  are  ladies  who  are 
regally  beautiful  in  severely  plain  toilets.  Some  ladies 
need  very  little  adornment.  This  is  especially  the  case 
with  young  women  who  have  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  a 
fresh  color.  If  they  wear  much  jewelry,  or  dress  in  high 
colors,  they  are  at  once  commented  on  with  unfriendly 
criticism.  Miss  Oakey,  who  is  an  authority  on  beauty 
in  dress,  and  the  author  of  a  book  with  that  title,  says: 
"The  object  of  dress  may  be  said  to  be  threefold — to 
cover,  to  warm,  to  beautify.  Beauty  in  dress,  as  in 
other  things,  is  largely  relative."  To  admit  this,  is  to 
admit  that  a  dress  which  is  beautiful  upon  one  woman 
may  be  hideous  worn  by  another.  Each  should  under- 
stand her  own  style,  accept  it,  and  let  the  fashion  of  her 
dress  be  built  upon  it.  Because  my  dark,  slender  friend 
looks  well  in  a  heavy  velvet  with  a  high  ruff,  her  rival, 
who  is  sHort  and  blonde,  tries  to  outshine  her  in  a  heavier 
velvet,  with  a  higher  ruff.  It  is  reason  enough  that  the 
last  should  look  ill  in  the  dress,  because  the  first  looks 
well  in  it. 

ELOQUENCE   OF    DRESS. 

Not  every  woman  can  dress  well  with  the  most  reck- 
less expenditure;  but  a  clever  woman  can  dress  well  with 
intelligent  economy  and  an  artistic  taste.  Let  women 
remember  that  it  is  harmony  of  color  and  grace  of  cut 
that  makes  a  dress  beautiful,  and  its  fitness  to  the  style 
and  needs  of  the  wearer,  not  richness  of  material  or  cost- 
liness of  ornament.  No  material  is  more  beautiful  than 
a  cashmere,  which  is  one  of  the  most  truly  economic 
dresses  that  one  can  wear,  as  it  both  washes  and  dyes, 


288  WHAT   CAN"  A  WOMAN   DO. 

without  loss  of  beauty,  and  wears  well  and  long.  The 
dress  should  always  be  harmonious  with  one' s  surround- 
ings. Sometimes  a  woman  is  more  elegant  in  a  plain 
dress,  when  a  richer  dress,  being  out  of  place,  would  be 
vulgar.  Let  the  dress  be  so  simply  an  expression  of  the 
woman  that  she  is  unconscious  of  it  when  she  has  put  it 
on.  Let  the  thinking  come  before  the  dressing.  Thus, 
alone,  can  she  be  harmonious,  and  possess  the  graceful 
attributes  that  form  the  highest  beauty. 

Another  high  authority  on  all  that  pertains  to  the  well 
being  of  true  womanhood,  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe,  thus 
writes: 

"  If  dress  can  heighten  the  whole  sense  of  what  is  really  beau- 
tiful in  womanhood,  it  is  certainly  a  power,  and  a  great  one. 
Surely,  one  of  the  first  conditions  to  this  end  would  be,  that 
dress  should  represent  womanly  reserve.  It  should  clothe,  not 
disguise  or  deform.  The  lines  of  beauty  should  be  preserved — 
colors  should  be  modest  beside  the  coloring  of  nature.  Let  no 
glaring  tints  disturb  the  harmony  of  the  delicately-blended 
lines.  The  gold  in  a  young  girl's  hair,  the  evanescent  roses  in 
her  cheeks,  glowing  and  paling  with  the  rhythm  of  her  pulse,  is 
a  silent  eloquence,  or,  rather,  a  light-and-shadow  utterance. 
Never  profane  or  frizzle  the  one  out  of  all  color,  or  place  beside 
the  other  any  brilliant  ornament  which  can  conflict  with  its  per- 
fect charm." 

Every  year  that  a  woman  lives  the  more  pains  she 
should  take  with  her  dress.  The  dress  of  elderly  ladies 
ought  to  be  more  of  a  science  than  it  is.  How  often  one 
hears  a  woman  of  fifty  say,  "  Oh,  my  dressing  days  are 
past;"  when,  if  she  thought  about  it,  they  have  only 
well  begun.  At  least,  the  time  has  come  when  dress  is 


THE  VALUE   OF   PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  289 

more  to  her  than  ever.  Remember,  that  from  forty  to 
sixty -five  is  a  quarter  of  a  century — the  third  of  a  long 
life.  It  is  the  period  through  which  the  majority  of 
grown-up  people  pass.  And  yet  how  little  pride  women 
take — how  little  thought  beforehand — to  be  charming 
then. 

THE    OTHER    EXTREME. 

But  she  must  be  equally  careful  to  avoid  a  foolish 
assumption  of  youth,  which  will  be  even  more  unbecom- 
ing. The  well-known  saying,  that  a  woman  is  no  older 
than  she  looks,  amiable  and  consoling  as  it  is,  has  not 
been  altogether  harmless.  Acting  upon  this  assump- 
tion, and  losing  sight  of  the  eternal  fitness  of  things, 
many  a  woman  has  arrayed  herself  in  a  manner  which  is 
not  only  entirely  unbecoming  to  her  face,  but  has  a  ten- 
dency to  make  her  ridiculous.  Who  has  not  trembled 
for  a  friend  when  the  mania  seized  her  to  color  her  hair; 
and  then,  as  her  good  sense  admonished  her  never  to  do 
it  again,  walked  trembling  by  her  side  while  she  wore 
the  changing  hues  from  black  to  greenish  white;  and 
who  does  not  rejoice  at  the  decree  which  makes  it  pos- 
sible for  gray  hair  to  be  not  only  honorable,  but  beauti- 
ful and  fashionable  also  ?  There  are  other  things  which 
need  the  strong  light  of  common  sense  thrown  upon 
them — the  colors  chosen  for  dresses,  the  style  of  the 
hats  and  bonnets,  the  dressing  for  the  neck  demand 
attention.  What  a  pity  it  is  that  women  with  thin 
faces  and  necks  do  not  understand  the  softening  effect  of 
lace — white  next  the  throat  and  black  outside  of  that. 
Plain,  rich  dresses  emphasize  the  grace  which  should,  at 
fifty,  be  even  more  admirable  than  at  twenty-five  or 

19 


290  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

thirty.  One  is  disposed  to  wonder  at,  if  not  to  criticize, 
Thackeray  severely  for  making  Henry  Esmond  marry 
Lady  Castlewood,  whose  daughter  was  his  first  love; 
and  he  is  pardoned  only  when  we  remember  that  her 
lovely  character  and  the  beauty  of  her  face  are  repre- 
sented as  existing  without  the  aid  of  those  artificial 
appliances  which  disfigure  some  women  even  at  the 
present  day,  when  good  sense  is  the  rule  and  not  the 
exception.  The  "eternal  fitness  of  things"  should  be 
studied  by  every  woman;  and  she  might  make  a  sort  of 
golden  text  of  this  sentence.  No  woman  looks  so  old  as 
one  who  tries  to  look  young.  The  little  girl  who  tries 
on  her  mother's  apron,  and  so  has  a  long  dress  in  front, 
and  the  traditional  ostrich  which  hides  its  head  in  the 
sand,  are  not  more  absurd  than  the  woman  who  per- 
suades herself  at  forty  that  she  looks  eighteen.  If  she 
would  only  stop  a  moment  and  reason  with  herself,  she 
would  know  that  she  is  infinitely  more  handsome  as  she 
is.  Would  she  exchange  the  lines  of  intelligence,  of 
thought,  of  knowledge,  for  the  mere  simper  of  youth? 
Her  face  that  has  bent  over  the  cradled  babe  night  after 
night  has  the  holy  seal  of  motherhood  to  beautify  it;  the 
eyes  that  have  looked  into  the  faces  of  the  dying  have  a 
tender  light  in  their  depths;  love  has  glorified  the  quiv- 
ering mouth  with  its  sacred  pathos;  the  faded  complex- 
ion is  lighted  by  the  immortal  glow  of  life's  western  sky. 

"  Would  you  be  young  again? 

So  would  not  I; 
One  tear  to  memory  given, 
Onward  we  hie. 


THE   VALUE   OF  PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  291 

Life's  dark  stream  forded  o'er, 
Almost  at  rest  on  shore. 
Say,  would  you  plunge  once  more, 
With  home  so  nigh?" 

There  are  some  old  ladies  who  are  grandly  beautiful. 
I  recall  such  a  one,  with  snowy  white  hair,  dressed  fash- 
ionably; with  a  rich,  black  velvet  dress,  and  masses  of 
real  old  lace  and  blonde  at  the  throat.  And  when  she 
went  to  parties  she  wore  pink  roses  in  her  hair  and  in 
her  bosom,  and  to  some  one  who  criticized  her  she  said: 
"  Did  you  never  hear  how  the  roses  grow  over  old  ruins, 
showing  the  triumph  of  nature  over  art?"  and  went  on 
her  way  with  sfately  step  and  a  sad,  sweet  smile  on  her 
grand,  old  face. 

Some  writer  has  said  that  a  woman's  power  in  the 
world  is  measured  by  her  power  to  please.  Whatever 
she  may  wish  to  accomplish  she  will  best  manage  it  by 
pleasing.  A  woman's  grand  social  aim  should  be  to 
please.  And  let  me  tell  you  how  that  is  to  be  done.  A 
woman  can  please  the  eye  by  her  appearance,  her  dress, 
her  face,  her  figure.  A  plain  woman  can  never  be  pretty. 
She  can  always  be  fascinating,  if  she  takes  pains.  I  well 
remember  a  man,  who  was  a  great  admirer  of  our  sex, 
telling  me  that  one  of  the  most  fascinating  women  he 
had  ever  met  with  was  not  only  not  pretty,  but,  as  to 
her  face,  decidedly  plain— ugly,  only  the  word  is  rude. 
How,  then,  did  she  fascinate?  I  well  remember  his 
reply  :  "  Her  figure,"  said  he,  "  was  neat,  her  dressing 
was  faultless,  her  every  movement  was  graceful,  her 
conversation  was  clever  and  animated,  and  she  always 
tried  to  please.  It  was  not  I  alone  who  called  her  fas- 


292 


WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 


cinating.  She  was  one  of  the  most  acceptable  women  in 
society  I  ever  knew.  She  married  brilliantly,  and  her 
husband,  a  lawyer  in  large  practice,  was  much  devoted 
to  her. 

A  BUSINESS   DEESS. 

Much  has  been  said  about  a  distinctive  dress  for  ladies 
who  are  engaged  in  business  pursuits,  but  as  the  sister- 
hood has  never  taken  kindly  to  a  uniform,  and  there  is  a 
more  definite  style  about  the  individual  in  the  ranks  of 
women  than  in  those  of  men,  it  would  be  hard  to  decide 
on  any  one  particular  costume  that  will  please  all. 
Some  little  black-eyed,  trim-figured  woman  will  sheath 
herself  in  a  neat-fitting  black  dress,  with  a  segment  of 
white  linen  at  the  neck  and  cuffs,  cover  her  smooth  hair 
with  a  close  Turban  hat,  draw  on  a  pair  of  dog-skin 
gloves,  and  look  essentially  refined  and  lady-like,  while 
another  in  the  same  suit  would  be  intolerably  loud  and 
ungraceful  in  appearance.  Water- proofs,  Ulsters,  gos- 
samers, and  similar  garments  are  worn  almost  universally 
on  the  street,  but  in  shops,  offices,  the  school-room,  and 
other  commercial  resorts  where  women  are  to  be  found, 
the  dress  will  remain  a  matter  of  individual  taste.  Cus- 
tom makes  laws  as  irrevocable  as  those  of  legislatures, 
and  the  time  has  not  yet  come,  possibly  never  will,  when 
a  girl  can  snatch  her  hat  from  its  nail  and  get  out  into 
the  open  air  as  quickly  as  her  brother.  There  must 
necessarily  be  certain  restrictions  of  sex,  and  no  amount 
of  reform  will  change  the  laws  of  nature.  The  matter  is 
already  simplified  by  the  short,  scant  dress,  and  the 
absence  of  trails,  hoops,  and  bustles,  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped  these  will  never  be  resumed  to  such  an  extent  by 


THE  VALUE   OF   PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  293 

our  fashionable  women  that  the  others  will  feel  obliged 
to  adopt  them.  The  working  dress  of  American  ladies 
to-day  is  a  happy  compromise  between  the  despotic 
fashions  of  a  court  and  the  severe  bigotry  of  a  reform 
costume  of  the  coat  and  trowsers  pattern.  The  absence 
of  voluminous  skirts  of  white  goods,  starched  and  fluted, 
is  not  to  be  deplored,  when  a  single  yoked  garment, 
depending  from  the  shoulder,  can  happily  replace  them. 
A  dark,  neat  color,  such  as  navy  blue,  or  a  rich  brown, 
in  a  soft  woolen  goods  that  drapes  artistically,  and  fol- 
lows the  outlines  (Jf  the  form  in  classic  folds,  is  prefer- 
able to  the  wash  lawns  and  percales  of  the  past,  and  saves 
much  time  and  money  over  laundrying,  etc.  Thus  one 
vexed  question  has  adjusted  itself,  and  we  will  not  ask 
whether  it  came  through  the  reformer  or  the  fashion 
inventor;  it  is  enough  to  know  that  a  woman  can  dress 
prettily  and  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  health  at  the 
same  time,  and  that  time  is  the  present. 

DRESS    REFORMERS. 

Miss  Oakey  voices  the  opinion  of  all  sensible  women 
when  she  says,  in  one  of  her  essays  :  "It  appears  to  us 
that  the  failure  of  the  '  dress  reformers  '  to  find  accept 
ance,  except  at  the  hands  of  a  few  enthusiasts,  arises 
from  two  causes:  First.  That  their  object  has  no  rela- 
tion to  beauty;  and,  secondly,  because  they  defeat  their 
own  purpose  by  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the  true  for- 
mation of  the  body.  A  dress  reform  that  opposes  itself 
to  beauty,  deserves  to  be  stamped  out  by  every  reason- 
able woman  in  the  land,  just  as  a  fashion  that,  in  its 
blind  search  for  beauty,  destroys  the  most  beautiful 


294  WHAT   CATT  A   WOMAN   DO. 

work  of  the  Creator,  deserves  the  same  fate.  The 
human  being  was  meant  to  be  beautiful.  It  is  always 
an  accident  or  mistake,  or  blind  or  willful  disregard  of 
the  laws  of  nature  when  the  human  being  is  ugly  as  an 
individual  or  as  a  race.  The  highest  beauty  is  elevating 
and  refining  in  its  influence  on  the  individual  and  on  the 
home.  It  is  the  natural  object  of  the  desire  of  human- 
ity. The  infant,  who  can  not  speak,  delights  in  it.  The 
most  cultured  man  uses  it  to  express  his  highest  aspira- 
tion. The  Creator  sows  it  broadcast  over  nature.  Even 
the  dumb  animals  have  some  sense  of  it;  and  here  starts 
up  a  little  band  of  'reformers,'  so-called,  doubtless  as 
sincere  as  they  are  misguided,  and  they  say  that  beauty 
is  a  mistake,  a  delusion,  and  a  snare;  that  what  we  shall 
seek  is  use — simply  use — as  if,  forsooth,  use  and  beauty 
were  at  war  with  each  other.  We  might  say  that  use 
demands  beauty  almost,  though  we  can  not  reverse  the 
saying,  and  assert  that  beauty  demands  use,  for  *  beauty 
is  its  own  excuse  for  being,'  our  wise  and  honored  sage 
has  said  in  one  of  his  deepest  moments;  and  yet  this 
beauty,  that  exists  as  it  were  for  very  pleasure,  has,  per- 
haps, the  highest  use — that  of  lifting  us  for  the  time 
quite  out  of  all  doctrines  of  expediency,  and  floating  us 
in  the  purely  ideal  world." 

Emerson  wrote  of  Margaret  Fuller :  "  She  was  always 
dressed  neatly  and  becoming."  Even  a  philosopher, 
writing  of  so  eminent  a  woman  as  Miss  Fuller,  could 
remember  that.  The  fact  is,  that  the  more  prominently 
a  woman  is  before  the  world,  or  in  any  kind  of  semi- 
public  work,  such  as  a  professional  and  literary  life 
really  is,  the  more  scrupulously  should  she  insist  on  per- 
fect taste  of  toilet. 


•WHERE    IS  YOUR    HOME?"       "WHERE    MOTHER    IS. 


"  Domestic  Happiness,  thou  only  bliss 
Of  Paradise  that  has  survived  the  fall." 

"  Our  -wives  are  as  comely 
And  our  home  is  sfcjll  home,  be  it  ever  so  homely." 

— Dibdm. 

N  speaking  of  his  home  to  a  friend, 
a  child  was  asked,  "  Where  is  your 
home  ?"  Looking  with  loving  eyes 
at  his  mother,  he  replied,  "  Where 
mother  is." 

"  Home,"  says  a  celebrated  divine, 
"  should  be  the  center  of  joy,  equa- 
torial and  tropical.     A  man's  house  should 
be  on  the  hill-top  of  cheerfulness  and  serenity 
so  high  that  no  shadows  rest  upon  it,  and 
where  the  morning  comes  so  early  and  the 
evening  tarries  so  late  that  the  day  has  twice 
as  many  golden  hours  as  those  of  other  men. 
He  is   to  be  pitied  whose  house  is  in  some 
valley  of  grief  between  the  hills,  with  the 
longest  night  and  the  shortest  day." 
It  is  the  woman  in  the  house  who  makes  the  home, 

295 


296  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

not  always  an  easy  or  a  comfortable  task  to  do,  but  most 
satisfactory  when  accomplished. 

THE   INFLUENCE   OF  THE  WIFE  AND   MOTHER 

in  the  domestic  world  is  unquestioned,  her  sway  is 
absolute  ;  she  can  make  all  who  come  within  her  reach 
happy  and  contented  or  she  can  render  them  misera- 
ble. She  can  rule  with  an  iron  rod  or  lead  with  a 
silken  string.  "  When  you  want  to  get  the  grandest 
idea  of  a  queen,"  says  a  modern  writer,  "you  do  not 
think  of  Catherine  of  Russia,  or  of  Anne  of  England, 
or  of  Marie  Theresa  of  Germany  ;  but  when  you  want  to 
get  your  grandest  idea  of  a  queen  you  think  of  the  plain 
woman  who  sat  opposite  your  father  at  the  table,  or 
walked  with  him  arm-in-arm  down  life's  pathway,  some- 
times to  the  thanksgiving  banquet,  sometimes  to  the 
grave,  but  always  together — soothing  your  petty  griefs, 
correcting  your  childish  waywardness,  joining  in  your 
infantile  sports,  listening  to  your  evening  prayers,  toil- 
ing for  you  with  needle  or  at  the  spinning-wheel,  and  on 
cold  nights  wrapping  you  up  snug  and  warm.  And  then 
at  last,  on  that  day  when  she  lay  in  the  back  room 
dying,  and  you  saw  her  take  those  thin  hands  with 
which  she  had  toiled  for  you  so  long  and  put  them 
together  in  a  dying  prayer  that  commended  you  to  the 
God  whom  she  had  taught  you  to  trust — oh,  she  was  the 
queen !  The  chariots  of  God  came  down  to  fetch  her, 
and  as  she  went  in  all  heaven  rose  up.  You  cannot 
think  of  her  now  without  a  rush  of  tenderness  that  stirs 
the  deep  foundations  of  your  soul,  and  you  feel  as  much 
a  child  again  as  when  you  cried  on  her  lap  ;  and  if  you 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   HOME.  297 

could  bring  her  back  again  to  speak  just  once  more  your 
name  as  tenderly  as  she  used  to  speak  it,  you  would  be 
willing  to  throw  yourself  on  the  ground  and  kiss  the  sod 
that  covers  her,  crying,  '  Mother  !  Mother  !'  Ah,  she 
was  the  queen  1  She  was  the  queen  !" 

AN  IDEAL  WOMAN. 

She  was  my  peer; 

No  weakling  girl,  who  would  surrender  will 
And  life  and  reason,  with  her  loving  heart, 
To  her  possessor;  no  soft,  clinging  thing 
Who  would  find  breath  alone  within  the  arms 
Of  a  strong  master,  and  obediently 
Wait  on  his  will  in  slavish  carefulness; 
No  fawning,  cringing  spaniel  to  attend 
His  royal  pleasure,  and  account  herself 
Rewarded  by  his  pats  and  pretty  words, 
But  a  sound  woman,  who,  with  insight  keen, 
Had  wrought  a  scheme  of  life,  and  measured  well 
Her  womanhood;  had  spread  before  her  feet 
A  fine  philosophy  to  guide  her  steps; 
Had  won  a  faith  to  which  her  life  was  brought 
In  strict  adjustment — brain  and  heart  meanwhile 
Working  in  conscious  harmony  and  rhythm 
With  the  great  scheme  of  God's  great  universe 
On  toward  her  being's  end. 

— Holland. 

HOME    EDUCATION. 

Teach  children  to  eat  properly  and  speak  correctly  in 
the  home  circle.  Many  a  young  man  has  gone  out  of  his 
father's  home  into  the  world,  who  has  been  mortified 
and  embarrassed  by  the  criticism  of  strangers  on  his 
table  manners  and  conversation.  Children  acquire  a 
habit  of  using  slip-shod  expressions,  such  as,  "I  ain't 


298  WHAT   CAT*   A   WOMAN   DO. 

got  it,"  "I  don't  want  nothing;"  of  using  the  knife 
instead  of  the  fork  ;  of  eating  in  a  loud  and  noisy  manner, 
with  their  elbows  extended  as  if  they  were  birds  feeding 
on  the  wing ;  of  making  uncouth  sounds  in  breathing, 
•and  of  acting  in  other  careless  ways  which  are  exceed- 
ingly annoying  to  older  and  well-bred  people.  These 
are  all  indications  of  lack  of  home  breeding.  Parents 
who  have  been  neglected  themselves  in  their  early  years 
have  no  right  to  transmit  their  careless  habits  to  their 
children,  or  send  them  out  into  the  world  to  learn  in 
manhood  or  womanhood  the  primary  laws  of  social 
ethics.  It  has  been  wisely  said  that  education  does  not 
begin  with  the  alphabet.  It  commences  with  a  mother's 
look,  with  a  father's  nod  of  approval  or  his  sign  of 
reproof  ;  with  a  sister's  gentle  pressure  of  the  hand,  or  a 
brother's  noble  act  of  forbearance  ;  with  a  handful  of 
flowers  in  green  and  daisied  meadows ;  with  a  bird' s 
nest  admired  but  not  touched  ;  with  pleasant  walks  in 
shady  lanes,  and  with  thoughts  directed,  in  sweet  and 
kindly  tones  and  words,  to  nature,  to  beauty,  to  acts  of 
benevolence,  to  deeds  of  virtue.  To  every  parent,  to 
every  influential  member  of  a  household,  there  is  com- 
mitted a  charge  which  can  be  shifted  to  no  one  else. 
There  can  be  no  model  system  grafted  upon  the  family 
tree.  The  children  of  one  family  cannot  be  brought  up 
successfully  by  the  same  method.  There  must  be  kisses 
for  one  and  discipline  for  another.  In  this  connection  an 
incident  suggests  itself.  A  mother  of  my  acquaintance 
had  two  little  girls — one  a  healthy,  strong  child,  without 
nerves ;  the  other  a  delicate,  sensitive,  shrinking  little 
one,  with  a  shy  and  timid  nature.  The  mother  had  one 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   HOME. 


299 


set  of  rules  for  the  two  children ;  they  ate  the  same  food, 
and  were  sent  to  bed  at  exactly  the  same  hour,  immedi- 
ately after  a  light  supper.  The  younger  and  healthier 
one  went  to  sleep  at  once  ;  the  other  begged  for  a  light 
to  be  kept  burning,  and  when  this  was  denied  would  be 
found  sitting  in  the  passage-ways  in  a  tremor  of  fright, 
which  no  amount  of  reasoning  would  control.  Cold 
hands  and  feet  and  a  burning  head  resulted.  The  doctor 
was  constantly  in  attendance  upon  the  little  one,  who 
could  not  go  to  school  without  getting  a  severe  cold, 
though  both  wore  the  same  amount  of  clothing  and  were 
equally  well  guarded  from  the  weather.  The  mother 
took  counsel  with  herself,  and  wisely  adopted  a  differ- 
ent method  of  treatment  with  the  child.  She  put  her 
bed  in  her  own  chamber,  kept  a  night-lamp  burning,  and 
sat  in  the  room  with  the  little  girl  telling  her  soothing 
stories  until  she  fell  quietly  to  sleep.  Believing  that 
her  child's  interests  were  superior  to  all  others,  she 
never  allowed  anything  to  interfere  with  her  evening 
work,  until  the  time  came  when  the  little  girl  could  be 
safely  left  alone,  her  thoughts  composed  and  her  nerves 
tranquil.  Had  the  mother  persisted  in  her  first  attempt 
to  bring  up  the  two  children  on  the  same  hygienic  and 
mental  plans,  one  would  probably  have  been  a  peevish 
invalid  for  life,  with  impaired  mental  faculties.  If  it  is 
necessary  for  us  to  respect  each  other's  prejudices,  how 
much  more  important  that  we  conciliate  infirmities  of 
temperament  which  are  so  closely  allied  with  our  per- 
sonal welfare. 

HAPPY    SLUMBERS. 

There  is  one  rule  that  it  is  always  safe  to  enforce  in 


300  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

the  family — the  rule  of  love  which  will  send  each  child 
to  bed  with  a  smile  on  its  lips  and  peace  in  its  heart. 
Fretful  mothers  have  much  to  excuse  them,  for  there  is 
an  accumulation  of  work  and  responsibility  in  the  home, 
of  which  they  bear  the  chief  burden,  but  it  will  pay 
them  infinitely  well  in  the  end  to  send  the  children  to 
bed  happy.  They  will  be  more  tractable  and  useful  in 
the  morning ;  they  will  have  happier  memories  of  their 
childhood  when  they  have  gone  out  from  the  home  nest 
into  the  world,  and  they  will  enshrine  in  their  hearts,  as 
household  saints,  the  mothers  who  gave  them  a  good- 
night kiss  with  smiles  and  benedictions  every  night  of 
their  young  lives.  Mothers  seem  to  think  often  that 
childhood  is  eternal — that  the  little  one  will  always  be 
there  to  kiss  and  caress ;  but  it  is  inevitable  that  the 
child  is  with  us  but  a  few  years,  and  the  mother  who 
neglected  the  opportunity  of  going  into  the  next  room 
to  press  the  rosy  cheek  with  a  good-night  kiss,  sits  alone 
and  asks  in  sadness  and  solitude,  "Where  is  my  boy 
to-night  ?"  "  Where  is  my  girl  to-night  2" 

THE  VALUE   OF    "  MOTHER." 

A  father,  talking  to  his  careless  daughter,  said:  "I 
want  to  speak  to  you  of  your  mother.  It  may  be  that 
you  have  noticed  a  careworn  look  upon  her  face  lately. 
Of  course,  it  has  not  been  brought  there  by  any  act  of 
yours,  but  still  it  is  your  duty  to  chase  it  away.  I  want 
you  to  get  up  to-morrow  morning  and  get  breakfast;  and 
when  your  mother  comes  and  begins  to  express  her  sur- 
prise, go  right  up  and  kiss  her  on  the  cheek.  You  can't 
imagine  how  it  will  brighten  her  dear  face.  Besides, 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  1IOME.  301 

you  owe  her  a  kiss  or  two.  Away  back,  when  you  were 
a  little  girl,  she  kissed  you  when  no  one  else  was  tempted 
by  your  fever-tainted  breath  and  swollen  face.  You 
were  not  as  attractive  then  as  you  are  now.  And 
through  those  years  of  childish  sunshine  and  shadows 
she  was  always  ready  to  cure,  by  the  magic  of  a  mother's 
kiss,  the  little  dirty,  chutjby  hands  whenever  they  were 
injured  in  those  first  skirmishes  with  the  rough  old 
world.  And  then  the  midnight  kiss  with  which  she 
routed  so  many  bad  dreams,  as  she  leaned  above  your 
restless  pillow,  have  all  been  on  interest  these  long,  long 
years.  Of  course,  she  is  not  so  pretty  and  kissable  as 
you  are  ;  but  if  you  had  done  your  share  of  work  during 
the  last  ten  years  the  contrast  would  not  be  so  marked. 
Her  face  has  more  wrinkles  than  yours,  far  more,  and 
yet  if  you  were  sick  that  face  would  appear  more  beau- 
tiful than  an  angel's  as  it  hovered  over  you,  watching 
every  opportunity  to  minister  to  your  comfort,  and 
every  one  of  those  wrinkles  would  seem  to  be  bright 
wavelets  of  sunshine  chasing  each  other  over  the  dear 
face.  She  will  leave  you  one  of  these  days.  These  bur- 
dens, if  not  lifted  from  her  shoulders,  will  break  her 
down.  Those  rough,  hard  hands,  that  have  done  so 
many  necessary  things  for  you,  will  be  crossed  upon  her 
lifeless  breast.  Those  neglected  lips,  that  gave  you  your 
first  baby  kiss,  will  be  forever  closed,  and  those  sad 
tired  eyes  will  have  opened  in  eternity,  and  then  you 
will  appreciate  your  mother  ;  but  it  will  be  too  late." 

MY  MOTHER'S  HYMN. 

Like  patient  saint  of  olden  time, 
With  lovely  face  almost  divine, 


302  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

So  good,  so  beautiful  and  fair, 
Her  very  attitude  a  prayer: 
I  heard  her  sing  so  low  and  sweet, 
"  His  loving-kindness — oh,  how  greatl  " 
Turning,  behold  the  saintly  face, 
So  full  of  trust  and  patient  grace. 

"  He  justly  claims  a  song  from  me, 

His  loving-kindness — oh,  how  free!  " 

Sweetly  thus  did  run  the  song, 
"  His  loving-kindness  "  all  day  long, 

Trusting,  praising,  day  by  day, 

She  sang  the  sweetest  roundelay — 
"  He  near  my  soul  hath  always  stood, 

His  loving-kindness — oh,  how  good!" 

"  He  safely  leads  my  soul  along, 
His  loving-kindness — oh,  how  strong!  " 
So  strong  to  lead  her  on  the  way 
To  that  eternal  better  day, 
Where  safe  at  last  in  that  blest  home, 
All  care  and  weariness  are  gone, 
She  "sings,  with  rapture  and  surprise, 
His  loving-kindness  in  the  skies." 

FEEDING   THE   SICK. 

Four  causes  of  suffering  among  the  sick  occur  to  us  as 
worth  considering.  First,  a  poor  choice  of  diet;  sec- 
ondly, a  poor  way  of  preparing  it  ;  thirdly,  an 
improper  time  for  serving  it ;  and  fourthly,  the  bad 
habit  of  retaining  it  within  the  patient's  recognition  by 
the  sense  of  sight  or  smell.  The  purpose  of  feeding  the 
well  or  ill  is  to  supply  the  demand  for  nourishment  and 
not  the  gratification  of  the  appetite.  Still,  the  latter 
result  has  its  value,  in  that  we  digest  more  readily  and 
perfectly  those  articles  of  nutrition  that  we  like. 

It  may  be  well  even  for  the  sick  to  have  regular  times 


THE  KINGDOM   OF   HOME.  303 

for  taking  nourishment;  still,  very  sick  persons  can  take 
so  little  nutriment  of  any  kind  that  their  needs  and 
wants  must  be  consulted.  The  general  rule  must  be  that 
the  smaller  the  quantity  that  can  be  taken  the  of  tener  it 
may  be  given.  And  a  second  rule  should  be,  never  to 
offer  a  patient  the  same  dish  of  food  that  he  has  once 
refused.  If  it  has  stood  lofeg  it  is  not  fresh  and  nice. 
A  third  rule  founded  on  experience  is,  always  make  the 
food  of  the  sick  palatable. 

In  the  course  of  a  severe  sickness  discretion  in  many 
things  is  valuable.  It  is  needed  in  measuring  out  the 
food.  A  teaspoonful  of  any  proper  liquid  every  half 
hour  or  more  may  be  all  that  the  sufferer  can  bear.  If 
he  is  stupid  or  delirious,  rub  his  lips  gently  with  a  spoon 
to  notify  him  that  he  must  now  be  ready  to  swallow 
what  you  present.  You  may  tenderly  press  down  the 
lower  lip  with  your  finger,  slowly  introduce  the  spoon  to 
attract  his  attention,  so  that  he  may  swallow  the  liquid 
almost  unconsciously,  and  yet  with  safety.  The  sick 
may  suffer  from  thirst,  and  still  be  unable  to  announce 
it.  Small  bits  of  ice  enclosed  in  a  soft  linen  rag  may 
meet  his  needs  and  be  eagerly  received.  Some  slightly 
acid  drinks,  as  lemonade,  will  demand  his  gratitude. 

The  kind  of  food  should  be  easy  of  solution  in  the 
patient's  mouth  and  in  the  gastric  sack.  The  taste  of 
the  sick  is  easily  offended,  so  that  proper  and  agreeable 
food  only  should  be  offered  ;  otherwise,  the  patient's 
stomach  will  loathe  and  utterly  reject  it — even  if  once 
well  down  it  will  soon  come  up  again.  No  nurse,  then, 
is  well  educated  and  fitted  for  the  practice  of  her  profes- 
sion, who  does  not  know  how  to  select  proper  food,  how 


304  WHAT   CA1ST  A   WOMAN  DO. 

to  prepare  it,  and  how  to  serve  it.  What  food  a  sick 
person  really  needs,  and  how  it  can  be  rendered  pala- 
table and  easily  digestible,  must  be  learned  by  observa- 
tion and  experience. 

The  temperature  of  food  renders  it  hard  or  easy  of 
digestion.  If  it  be  lower  than  the  temperature  of  the 
stomach,  the  digestion  will  be  more  or  less  delayed.  It 
should  be  as  warm  at  least  as  the  temperature  of  the  gas- 
tric sack  in  which  it  must  be  dissolved,  or  it  may  induce 
temporary  indigestion.  Tea,  coffee,  toast  or  bits  of  beef 
should  be  hot  when  presented  to  the  invalid  or  convales- 
cent, because  time  will  cool  them  to  suit  his  taste.  The 
cups  for  tea  or  coffee  or  chocolate  need  no  warming,  but 
the  plates  on  which  he  carves  his  meat  or  toast  often  do. 

The  physician,  as  a  part  of  his  duty,  may  prescribe 
the  amount  of  food  the  patient  may  safely  take,  but 
still  the  nurse  should  be  able  to  vary  his  directions  when 
circumstances  occur  to  warrant  it.  A  nurse  should 
never  urge  the  sick  person  to  eat  more  than  he  really 
wants. 

The  idea  of  having  a  certain  article  of  food  long  enter- 
tained will  inevitably  impair  the  appetite  for  it.  It  is  a 
careless  and  disagreeable  practice  to  fill  a  cup  so  full 
that  its  contents  will  run  over  and  partially  fill  the  sau- 
cer. The  nurse  should  never  taste  the  tea  or  coffee  or 
broth  in  the  presence  of  the  patient.  It  makes  him  feel 
that  he  is  to  drink  only  slops  remaining  in  the  nurse's 
cup.  Be  considerate  enough  to  know  what  the  sick  one 
may  need.  Have  everything  placed  in  tasteful  order  on 
a  waiter— salt,  pepper,  fork  and  knife,  extra  cup  and 
spoons.  A  neat  bouquet  will  make  your  patient  smile 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   HOME.  305 

and  increase  his  appetite.     A  loving  tone  and  a  few  ten- 
der words  are  often  worth  more  than  stimulants. 

THE  GIRL    IN  THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

As  the  march  of  civilization  renders  the  art  of  living 
more  complicated,  the  question  vof  how  we  shall  be 
served  increases  in  importance.  Untrained  peasants, 
direct  from  Europe,  invade  our  homes,  spoil  our  dinners, 
destroy  our  delicate  china  and  bric-a-brac,  and  rule  us 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  We  pay  them  high  wages,  and  only 
complain  when  goaded  to  desperation.  Many  of  these 
girls  are  good-natured,  quick-witted,  and  easily  taught 
the  manifold  duties  of  the  average  household.  But  how 
many  women  are  willing  to  convert  their  tastefully  fur' 
nished  homes  into  training-schools  for  ignorant  ser- 
vants ?  No  doubt  there  are  some  admirable  housekeep* 
ers  who  prefer  taking  a  raw  girl  just  from  the  ship,  and 
training  her  into  the  ways  of  their  households.  If  they 
can  at  the  same  time  inculcate  habits  of  order  and  sys- 
tem, they  are  doubly  to  be  blessed.  While  this  course 
of  education  is  going  on,  however,  the  same  wages  are 
demanded  in  many  cases  as  after  the  girl  has  graduated 
and  received  her  diploma.  At  any  time  during  her  tute- 
lage the  offer  of  an  additional  dollar  per  month  will 
induce  the  average  girl  to  leave  her  kind  instructor  and 
palm  off  her  incompetency  on  some  other  mistress.  How 
is  this  unjust  state  of  affairs  to  be  remedied  ? 

A  thoroughly  good  servant,  one  who  understands  her 
duties  and  attends  to  them  properly,  deserves  to  be  well 
paid.  A  skilled  workman  can  always  command  good 
wages,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  a  woman's  skill  in 

20 


Ik 


306  WHAT   CA1ST   A   WOMAN   DO. 

domestic  duties  should  not  have  a  marketable  value. 
But  this  will  never  be  the  case  until  ladies  absolutely 
refuse  to  pay  high  wages  for  poor  work.  There  are 
thousands  of  households  in  this  city  to-day,  where  the 
ladies  themselves  do  much  of  the  dirty  and  disagreeable 
work,  for  fear  of  offending  Bridget  by  asking  her  to 
attend  to  it.  Instead  of  keeping  a  general  supervision 
over  the  various  departments  of  household  labor,  they 
are  constantly  employed  in  doing  up  the  little  odds  and 
ends  of  work  which  their  hired  "help"  have  purposely 
neglected.  Of  course,  in  families  where  only  one  ser- 
vant is  kept,  who  is  expected  to  do  washing,  ironing, 
cooking  and  cleaning,  a  great  deal  devolves  upon  the 
mistress.  In  such  cases  the  lady  of  the  house  should 
take  upon  herself  certain  departments  of  work,  and 
attend  to  them  regularly.  Many  ladies  do  the  up-stairs 
work  themselves,  except  on  Fridays,  when  the  girl  gives 
the  bedroom  a  thorough  sweeping.  Other  ladies  wash 
the  fine  china  and  silver,  and  brush  up  and  dust  the  din- 
ing room  after  breakfast  is  over,  while  the  girl  makes 
the  beds  up-stairs.  Some  such  arrangement  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  where  the  family  is  large.  In  such 
cases  the  girl  is  not  expected  to  do  much  baking.  Either 
the  mistress  makes  pies,  cakes  and  desserts  herself  or 
has  recourse  to  the  bakery.  When  hiring  a  girl  for  gen- 
eral housework,  a  lady  should  always  specify  exactly 
what  the  girl  will  be  expected  to  do,  and  state  what 
work  she  will  herself  attend  to.  After  this  she  should 
never  do  Bridget's  work  for  her.  If  in  setting  the  table 
she  forgets  something,  and  the  mistress  gets  it  herself, 
the  girl  will  invariably  forget  it  the  next  time.  If  called 


THE   KINGDOM   OF  HOME.  307 

herself  and  asked  to  fetch  it,  it  will  not  again  be  miss- 
ing. The  ironing  drags  and  looks  as  if  there  was  no 
prospect  of  it  being  finished.  The  lady  foresees  confu- 
sion, takes  a  hand,  and  works  until  she  has  a  headache. 
Next  week  the  same  scene  is  repeated,  only  if  the  mis- 
tress goes  out  calling,  instead  of  giving  the  desired  help, 
black,  sullen  looks  are  the  result.  Never  give  a  girl  too 
much  work  for  her  strength,  but  on  no  account  accept 
less  than  the  work  she  is  engaged  to  do. 

Ladies  who  take  ignorant  girls  just  landed,  to  teach 
in  their  families,  should  pay  them  no  more  than  a  rea- 
sonable sum  a  month  while  learning.  If  they  would 
refuse  to  pay  more,  a  reform  would  soon  be  effected. 
The  matter  lies  in  the  hands  of  the  mistresses  themselves. 
Servant-girls  who  are  assisted  by  the  lady  of  the  house, 
and  who  only  do  a  part  of  the  work  themselves,  are  not 
worth  as  high  wages  as  those  who  are  competent  cooks, 
laundresses  and  chamber-maids.  The  latter  ought  to 
command  higher  wages  than  those  who  only  do  one 
thing. 

Many  families,  who  find  two  girls  in  a  house  apt  to 
disagree,  either  put  out  their  entire  washing  and  ironing 
or  have  a  woman  come  in  every  week  to  do  it,  and  keep 
one  good  general  servant.  Under  these  circumstances 
there  is  often  more  real  comfort  than  when  two  or  three 
girls  are  kept. 

Of  course,  the  mistress  of  a  household  must  under- 
stand and  act  upon  the  principle  that  duty  is  two-fold — 
that  she  as  well  as  the  servant  must  keep  watch  and 
ward  over  her  temper  and  her  actions,  that  she  has  no 
more  right  to  shirk  that  share  of  the  household  duties 


308  WHAT   CAX   A   WOMAN  DO. 

she  has  assumed  than  the  family  servant,  and  finally 
that  the  relation  of  mistress  and  servant  is  purely  a  busi- 
ness one  and  warrants  no  personal  liberties,  no  unkind- 
ness  of  speech  or  discourtesy  of  action  on  the  one  side 
or  on  the  other. 

SECRET   OF   A  TKUE   LIFE. 

Dr.  Arnold,  of  Rugby,  gives  in  one  of  his  letters  an 
account  of  a  saintly  sister.  For  twenty  years,  through 
some  disease,  she  was  confined  to  a  kind  of  crib  ;  never 
once  could  she  change  her  position  for  all  that  time. 
"And  yet,"  said  Dr.  Arnold  (and  I  think  his  words  are 
very  beautiful),  "I  never  saw  a  more  perfect  instance  of 
the  power  of  love  and  a  sound  mind.  Intense  love, 
almost  to  the  annihilation  of  selfishness ;  a  daily  mar- 
tyrdom for  twenty  years,  during  which  she  adhered  to 


her  early  formed  resolution  of  never  talking  about  her- 
self ;  thoughtful  about  the  very  pins  and  ribbons  of  my 
wife's  dress,  about  the  making  of  a  doll's  cap  for  a  child, 
but  of  herself — save  as  regarded  her  improvement  in  all 
goodness  —  wholly  thoughtless,  enjoying  everything 
lovely,  grand,  beautiful,  high-minded,  whether  in  God's 
works  or  man's,  with  the  keenest  relish  ;  inheriting  the 
earth  to  the  fullness  of  the  promise;  and  preserved 
through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  from  all  fear 
or  impatience,  and  from  every  cloud  of  impaired  reason 
which  might  mar  the  beauty  of  Christ's  glorious  work. 
May  God  grant  that  I  might  come  within  one  hundred 
degrees  of  her  place  in  glory  !" 

Such  a  life  was  true  and  beautiful.     But  the  radiance 
of  such  a  life  never  cheered  this  world  by  chance.     A 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   HOME.  309 

sunny  patience,  a  bright-hearted  self-forgetfulness,  a 
sweet  and  winning  interest  in  the  little  things  of  family 
intercourse,  the  divine  lustre  of  a  Christian  peace,  are 
not  fortuitous  weeds  carelessly  flowering  out  of  the  life- 
garden.  It  is  the  internal  wjiich  makes  the  external. 
It  is  the  force  residing  in  the  atoms  which  shapes  the 
pyramid.  It  is  the  beautiful  soul  within  which  forms 
the  crystal  of  the  beautiful  life  without. 

"  Be  what  thou  seemest;  live  thy  creed; 

Hold  up  to  the  earth  the  torch  divine; 
Be  what  thou  prayest  to  be  made; 
Let  the  great  Master's  steps  be  thine. 

"  Sow  love,  and  taste  its  fruitage  pure ; 

Sow  peace,  and  reap  its  harvest  bright; 
Sow  sunbeams  on  the  rock  and  moor, 
And  find  a  harvest  home  of  light." 

THE  "LITTLE  PITCHERS." 

It  is  rather  a  sad  fact,  nevertheless  it  is  true,  that  chil- 
dren are  often  necessary  in  the  household  to  act  as  scav- 
engers and  keep  the  moral  air  pure.  Often  it  happens 
that  when  a  party  of  older  people  are  telling  some 
doubtful  bit  of  gossip,  or  relating  a  story  too  salacious 
for  dainty  palates,  the  earnest,  interrogative  gaze  of  a 
little  child  produces  a  sudden  hush,  and  some  one  inva- 
riably remarks,  "Little  pitchers  have  long  ears,"  a 
phrase  older  than  the  oldest  memory  and  singularly 
attractive  to  the  little  folk.  "  Where  are  the  little  pit- 
chers ?"  ask  these  innocent  ones,  taking  the  words  liter- 
ally ;  but  the  conversation  takes  another  turn — the 
"  child  in  their  midst "  has  been  a  purifying  influence, 


310  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

and  they  restrain  the  tide  of  gossip  or  slander,  conscious 
that  it  is  potent  for  evil. 

It  is  a  pity  if  there  are  any  families  where  this  nursery 
rhyme  is  unknown,  where  the  "little  pitchers"  are 
filled  with  words  of  profanation,  and  scoldings  and  con- 
tradiction are  poured  daily  into  the  "long  ears"  that 
should  be  filled  only  with  the  dews  of  heaven.  Children 
are  so  quick  to  learn,  and  no  word  they  hear  is  ever  lost, 
but  reverberates  in  memory  until  years  have  passed  and 
father  and  mother  gone,  and  the  boy  or  girl  grown  to 
maturity,  when  it  all  comes  back,  "  Mother  used  to  say," 
"I  have  heard  my  father  tell,"  etc.  Oh,  if  they  were 
words  of  wisdom,  of  love  and  kindly  counsel,  how  sweet 
to  remember  and  reproduce  them — how  precious  the 
draught  which,  distilled  in  the  "little  pitcher," 
refreshes  like  the  fountain  of  pure  cold  water  in  the 
desert.  Every  parent  is  a  future  historian.  Teachers 
and  playmates  may  be  forgotten,  but  the  first  lesson 
learned  from  the  lips  of  a  parent  is  immortal  in  its 
power.  Fill  up  the  "little  pitchers,"  then,  with  the 
milk  and  honey  that  nourish  unto  a  perfect  growth — 
make  them  vessels  of  honor  in  the  home  and  the  world. 


\SZ  orrjei)  *  as  *  |f  oef  s. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 


BY  MRS.  JULIA  WARD  HCWE 


Mrs.  Howe  was  born  in  New  York  in  1819.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
Samuel  Ward,  a  banker  of  that  city,  and  in  1843  was  married  to  Samuel 
G.  Howe,  of  Boston.  Her  first  volume  was  a  book  of  poems  called 
Passion  Flowers,  published  in  1854.  It  was  in  1866,  after  the  close  of 
the  war,  that  she  published  the  Battle  Hymn  in  her  volume  Later  Lyrics. 
Mrs.  Howe  is  a  grand  woman,  a  poet  and  philanthropist,  and  a  worker  in 
every  good  cause  that  furthers  the  advancement  of  Avomen.  She  is  also 
the  author  of  several  prose  works  commemorative  of  her  travels  abroad. 

MINE  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 
He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of 
wrath  are  stored; 

He  hath  loosed  the  fateful  lightning  of  His  terrible  swift  sword. 
His  truth  is  marching  on. 

I  have  seen  him  in  the  watch-fires  of  a  hundred  circling  camps; 
They  have  builded  him  an  altar  in  the  evening  dews  and  damps. 
I  can  read  his  righteous  sentence  by  the  dim  and  flaring  lamps. 
His  day  is  marching  on. 

I  have  read  a  fiery  gospel  writ  in  burnished  rows  of  steel : 

As  ye  deal  with  my  contemners,  so  with  you  my  grace  shall 

deal. 

Let  the  Hero,  born  of  woman,  crush  the  serpent  with  his  heel — 
Since  God  is  marching  on. 

811 


312  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  call  retreat; 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  his  judgment  seat. 
Oh,  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  him!  be  jubilant,  my  feet! 
Our  God  is  marching  on. 

In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies,  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 
With  a  glory  in  his  bosom  that  transfigures  you  and  me. 
As  he  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free — 
While  God  is  marching  on. 


ROCK  ME  TO  SLEEP. 


&?  MRS.  ELIZABETH  AKEBS  ALLEN. 


The  author  of  this  beautiful  and  favorite  poem,  Mrs.  Allen,  was  born 
October  9th,  1832,  in  Strong,  Franklin  Co.,  Maine,  and  at  an  early  period 
was  married  to  Paul  Akers,  the  sculptor,  who  died  in  the  following  year. 
She  afterwards  married  Mr.  E.  M.  Allen,  a  resident  of  New  York  City, 
and  under  the  nom-de-guerre  of  Florence  Percy,  wrote  many  beautiful  and 
touching  poems,  none  of  which  have  attained  to  such  popular  fame  as 
Rock  Me  to  Sleep,  which  is  claimed  by  as  many  authors  as  Beautiful 
Snow.  Mrs.  Allen  is  at  present  living  in  Greenville,  N.  J. 

BACKWARD,  turn  backward,  O  Time,  in  your  flight — 
Make  me  a  child  again  just  for  to-night. 
Mother,  come  back  from  the  echoless  shore; 
Take  me  again  to  your  heart  as  of  yore; 
Kiss  from  my  forehead  the  furrows  of  care, 
Smooth  the  few  silver  threads  out  of  my  hair; 
Over  my  slumbers  your  loving  watch  keep — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Backward,  flow  backward,  O  tide  of  the  years, 
I  am  so  weary  of  toil  and  of  tears — 
Toil  without  recompense,  tears  all  in  vain — 
Take  them  and  give  me  my  childhood  again. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  313 

I  have  grown  weary  of  dust  and  decay — 
Weary  of  flinging  my  soul  wealth  away; 
Weary  of  sowing  for  others  to  reap — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

x 
Tired  of  the  hollow,  the  base,  the  untrue, 

Mother,  O  mother,  my  heart  calls  for  you. 
Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green, 
Blossomed  and  faded,  our  faces  between; 
Yet,  with  strong  yearning  and  passionate  pain, 
Long  I  to-night  for  your  presence  again. 
Come  from  the  silence  so  long  and  so  deep—- 
Rock me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Over  my  heart  in  the  days  that  are  flown, 
No  love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone; 
No  other  worship  abides  and  endures — 
Faithful,  unselfish,  and  patient,  like  yours; 
None  like  a  mother  can  charm  away  pain 
From  the  sick  soul  and  the  world-weary  brain. 
Slumber's  soft  calms  o'er  my  heavy  lids  creep — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Come,  let  your  brown  hair,  just  lighted  with  gold. 
Fall  on  your  shoulders  again  as  of  old; 
Let  it  drop  over  my  forehead  to-night, 
Shading  my  faint  eyes  away  from  the  light; 
For,  with  its  sunny-edged  shadows  once  more, 
Haply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  of  yore. 
Lovingly,  softly,  its  bright  billows  sweep — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Mother,  dear  mother,  the  years  have  been  long 
Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  song: 


: 
i 
. 

314  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Sing,  then,  and  unto  my  soul  it  shall  seem 
"Womanhood's  years  have  been  only  a  dream. 
Clasped  to  your  heart  in  a  loving  embrace, 
With  your  light  lashes  just  sweeping  my  face, 
Never  hereafter  to  wake  or  to  weep — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


ANSWER  TO  ROCK  ME  TO  SLEEP. 


MY  child,  ah  my  child!  thou  art  weary  to-night, 
Thy  spirit  is  sad  and  dim  is  the  light; 
Thou  wouldst  call  me  back  from  the  echoless  shore, 
To  the  trials  of  life,  to  thy  heart  as  of  yore; 
Thou  longest  a^ain  for  my  fond  loving  care, 
For  my  kiss  on  thy  cheek,  for  my  hand  on  thy  hair; 
But  angels  around  thee  their  loving  watch  keep, 
And  angels,  my  darling,  will  rock  thee  to  sleep. 

"  Backward  ?"     Nay,  onward,  ye  swift  rolling  years! 
Gird  on  thy  armor,  keep  back  thy  tears; 
Count  not  thy  trials  nor  efforts  in  vain — 
They'll  bring  thee  the  light  of  thy  childhood  again. 
Thou  shouldst  not  weary,  my  child,  by  the  way, 
But  watch  for  the  light  of  that  brighter  day; 
Not  tired  of  "  sowing  for  others  to  reap," 
For  angels,  my  darling,  will  rock  thee  to  sleep. 

Tired,  my  child,  of  the  "  base,  the  untrue  !" 
I  have  tasted  the  cup  they  have  given  to  you — 
I've  felt  the  deep  sorrow  in  the  living  green 
Of  a  low  mossy  grave  by  a  silvery  stream. 
But  the  dear  mother  I  then  sought  for  in  vain 
Is  an  angel  presence  and  with  me  again, 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  315 

And  in  the  still  night,  from  the  silence  so  deep, 
Come  the  bright  angels  to  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Nearer  thee  now  than  in  days  that  are  flown, 

Purer  the  love  light  encircling  thy  home; 

Far  more  enduring  the  watch  f or  <to-night, 

Than  ever  earth  worship  away  from  the  light. 

Soon  the  dark  shadows  will  linger  no  more, 

Nor  come  to  thy  call  from  the  opening  door; 

But  know  thou,  my  child,  that  the  angels  watch  keep, 

And  soon,  very  soon,  they'll  rock  thee  to  sleep. 

They'll  sing  thee  to  sleep  with  a  soothing  song, 
And  waking,  thou'lt  be  with  a  heavenly#throng; 
And  thy  life,  with  its  toil  and  its  tears  and  pain, 
Thou  wilt  then  see  has  not  been  in  vain* 
Thou  wilt  meet  those  in  bliss  whom  on  earth  thou  didst  love, 
And  whom  thou  hast  taught  of  the  "mansions  above." 
"  Never  hereafter  to  suffer  or  weep," 
The  angels,  my  darling,  will  rock  thee  to  sleep. 


KENTUCKY    BELLE. 


BY  CONSTANCE  F.  WOOLSON. 


This  lady  is  a  magazine  writer  of  great  power  and  originality.  Her  most 
popular  novel  is  Anne,  a  tale  of  Mackinac,  which  was  published  in 
Harper's  Magazine  in  1881.  She  is  unmarried,  and  an  artist  as  well  as  an 
author  and  poet.  The  poem  we  append  is  an  especial  favorite  in  public 
readings. 

SUMMER  of  'sixty-three,  sir,  and  Conrad  was  gone  away — 
Gone  to  the  country-town,  sir,  to  sell  our  first  load  of  hay — 
We  lived  in  the  log  house  yonder,  poor  as  ever  you've  seen; 
Roschen  there  was  a  baby,  and  I  was  only  nineteen. 


316  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Conrad,  he  took  the  oxen,  but  he  left  Kentucky  Belle. 
How  much  we  thought  of  Kentuck,  I  couldn't  begin  to  tell — 
Came  from  the  Blue-Grass  country;  my  father  gave  her  to  me 
When  I  rode  North  with  Conrad,  away  from  the  Tennessee. 

Conrad  lived  in  Ohio — a  German  he  is,  you  know — 

The  house  stood  in  broad  corn-fields,  stretching  on  row  after 

row. 
The  old  folks  made   me  welcome;    they  were  kind   as  kind 

could  be; 
But  I  kept  longing,  longing,  for  the  hills  of  the  Tennessee. 

Oh,  for  a  sight  of  water,  the  shadowed  slope  of  a  hill! 
Clouds  that  hang  on  the  summit,  a  wind  that  never  is  still! 
But  the  level  land  went  stretching  away  to  meet  the  sky — 
Never  a  rise,  from  north  to  south,  to  rest  the  weary  eye. 

From  east  to  west,  no  river  to  shine  out  under  the  moon, 
Nothing  to  make  a  shadow  in  the  yellow  afternoon: 
Only  the  breathless  sunshine,  as  I  looked  out,  all  forlorn; 
Only  the  "  rustle,  rustle,"  as  I  walked  among  the  corn. 

When  I  fell  sick  with  pining,  we  didn't  wait  any  more, 
But  moved  away  from  the  corn-lands,  out  to  this  river-shore— 
The  Tuscarawas  it's  called,  sir — off  there's  a  hill,  you  see — 
And  now  I've  grown  to  like  it  next  best  to  the  Tennessee. 

I  was  at  work  that  morning.     Some  one  came  riding  like  mad 
Over  the  bridge  and  up  the  road — Farmer  Rouf's  little  lad. 
Bareback  he  rode;  he  had  no  hat;  he  hardly  stopped  to  say, 
"Morgan's  men  are  coming,  Frau;    they're  galloping  on  this 
way. 

"I'm sent  to  warn  the  neighbors.     He  isn't  a  mile  behind; 
He  sweeps  up  all  the  horses — every  horse  that  he  can  find. 


WOMEtf   AS   POETS.  317 

Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men, 
With  bowie-knives  and  pistols,  are  galloping  up  the  glen!" 

The  lad  rode  down  the  valley,  and  I  stood  still  at  the  door; 
The  baby  laughed  and  prattled,  playing  with  spools  on  the  floor; 
Kentuck  was  out  in  the  pasture;  Conrad,  my  man  was  gone. 
Near,  nearer,  Morgan's  men  were  galloping,  galloping  on! 

Sudden  I  picked  up  baby,  and  ran  to  the  pasture-bar. 
"  Kentuck!"  I  called — "  Kentucky!"     She  knew  me  ever  so  far! 
I  led  her  down  the  gully  that  turns  off  there  to  the  right, 
And  tied  her  to  the  bushes;  her  head  was  just  out  of  sight. 

As  I  ran  back  to  the  log  house,  at  once  there  came  a  sound — 
The  ring  of  hoofs,  galloping  hoofs,  trembling  over  the  ground — 
Coming  into  the  turnpike  out  from  the  White- Woman  Glen — 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men. 

As  near  they  drew  and  nearer,  my  heart  beat  fast  in  alarm; 

But  still  I  stood  in  the  door-way,  with  baby  on  my  arm. 

They  came;  they  passed;  with  spur  and  whip  in  haste  they  sped 

along — 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  and  his  band,  six  hundred  strong. 

Weary  they  looked  and  jaded,  riding  through  night  and  through 

day; 

Pushing  on  east  to  the  river,  many  long  miles  away, 
To  the  border-strip  where  Virginia  runs  up  into  the  west, 
And  fording  the  Upper  Ohio  before  they  could  stop  to  rest. 

On  like  the  wind  they  hurried,  and  Morgan  rode  in  advance; 
Bright  were  his  eyes  like  live  coals,  as  he  gave  me  a  sideways 

glance; 

And  I  was  just  breathing  freely,  after  my  choking  pain, 
When  the  last  one  of  the  troopers  suddenly  drew  his  rein. 


318  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Frightened  I  was  to  death,  sir;  I  scarce  dared  look  in  his  face, 
As  he  asked  for  a  drink  of  water,  and  glanced  around  the  place. 
I  gave  him  a  cup  and  he  smiled — 'twas  only  a  boy,  you  see, 
Faint  and  worn,  with  dim-blue  eyes;   and  he'd  sailed  on  the 
Tennessee. 

Only  sixteen  he  was,  sir — a  fond  mother's  only  son — 

Off  and  away  with  Morgan  before  his  life  had  begun  ! 

The  damp  drops  stood  on  his  temples;  drawn  was  the  boyish 

mouth; 
And  I  thought  me  of  the  mother  waiting  down  in  the  South. 

Oh,  pluck  was  he  to  the  backbone,  and  clear  grit  through  and 

through ; 
Boasted  and  bragged  like  a  trooper;  but  the  big  words  wouldn't 

do- 

The  boy  was  dying,  sir,  dying,  as  plain  as  plain  could  be, 
Worn  out  by  his  ride  with  Morgan  up  from  the  Tennessee. 

But  when  I  told  the  laddie  I  too  was  from  the  South, 

Water  came  in  his  dim  eyes,  and  quivers  around  his  mouth. 

"  Do  you  know  the  Blue-Grass  country  ?"  he  wistful  began  to 

say; 
Then  swayed  like  a  willow-sapling,  and  fainted  dead  away. 

I  had  him  into  the  log  house,  and  worked  and  brought  him  to; 
I  fed  him,  and  I  coaxed  him,  as  I  thought  his  mother'd  do; 
And  when  the  lad  got  better,  and  the  noise  in  his  head  was 

gone, 
Morgan's  men  were  miles  away,  galloping,  galloping  on. 

"  Oh,  I  must  go,"  he  muttered;  "  I  must  be  up  and  away! 
Morgan — Morgan  is  waiting  for  me!     Oh,  what  will  Morgan 

say?" 


«>HAO  HIM  INTO  THE  LOG  HOUSE,  AND  WORKED  AND  BROUGHT  HIM  THROUGH; 
I  FED  HIM,  AND  I  COAXED  HIM,  AS  I  THOUGHT  HIS  MOTHER  '0  DO.H 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  319 

But  I  heard  a  sound  of  tramping  and  kept  him  back  from  the 

door — 
The  ringing  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  that  I  had  heard  before. 

And  on,  on  came  the  soldiers — the  Michigan  cavalry — 

And  fast  they  rode,  and  black  they  looked,  galloping  rapidly, 

They  had  followed  hard  on  Morgan's  track;  they  had  followed 

day  and  night; 
But  of  Morgan  and  Morgan's  raiders  they  had  never  caught  a 

sight. 

And  rich  Ohio  sat  startled  through  all  those  summer  days; 
For  strange,  wild  men  were  galloping  over  her  broad  highways: 
Now  here,  now  there,  now  seen,  now  gone,  now  north,  now  east, 

now  west, 
Through  river-valleys  and  corn-land  farms,  sweeping  away  her 

best. 

A  bold  ride  and  a  long  ride!  But  they  were  taken  at  last, 
They  almost  reached  the  river  by  galloping  hard  and  fast; 
But  the  boys  in  blue  were  upon  them  ere  ever  they  gained  the 

ford, 
And  Morgan,  Morgan  the  raider,  laid  down  his  terrible  sword. 

Well,  I  kept  the  boy  till  evening — kept  him  against  his  will — 
But  he  was  too  weak  to  follow,  and  sat  there  pale  and  still. 
When  it  was  cool  and  dusky — you'll  wonder  to  hear  me  tell — 
But  I  stole  down  to  that  gully,  and  brought  up  Kentucky  Belle. 

I  kissed  the  star  on  her  forehead — my  pretty,  gentle  lass — 
But  I  knew  that  she'd  be  happy  back  in  the  old  Blue-Grass. 
A  suit  of  clothes  of  Conrad's,  with  all  the  money  I  had, 
And  Kentuck,  pretty  Kentuck,  I  gave  to  the  worn-out  lad. 


320  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

I  guided  him  to  the  southward  as  well  as  I  knew  how; 
The  boy  rode  off  with  many  thanks,  and  many  a  backward  bow; 
And  then  the  glow  it  faded,  and  my  heart  began  to  swell, 
As  down  the  glen  away  she  went,  my  lost  Kentucky  Belle! 

When  Conrad  came  in  the  evening,  the  moon  was  shining  high; 
Baby  and  I  were  both  crying — I  couldn't  tell  him  why — 
But  a  battered  suit  of  rebel  gray  was  hanging  on  the  wall, 
And  a  thin  old  horse,  with  drooping  head,  stood  in  Kentucky's 
stall. 

Well,  he  was  kind,  and  never  once  said  a  hard  word  to  me; 
He  knew  I  couldn't  help  it — 'twas  all  for  the  Tennessee. 
But,  after  the  war  was  over,  just  think  what  came  to  pass — 
A  letter,  sir;  and  the  two  were  safe  back  in  the  old  Blue-Grass. 

The  lad  had  got  across  the  border,  riding  Kentucky  Belle; 
And  Kentuck  she  was  thriving,  and  fat,  and  hearty,  and  well; 
He  cared  for  her,  and  kept  her,  nor  touched  her  with  whip  or 

spur. 
Ah,  we've  had  many  horses  since,  but  never  a  horse  like  her! 

DEATH  AND  THE  YOUTH. 


BY  LKTJTIA  E.  LANDON. 


The  beautiful,  gifted,  and  most  unhappy  L.  E.  L.,  as  she  signed  herself 
in  her  first  youthful  poems,  was  the  daughter  of  an  army  agent,  and  was 
born  in  Chelsea,  England,  in  1802,  and  died  in  1838.  She  acquired  a  brief 
and  splendid  popularity,  but  her  sad  domestic  life  tinged  her  later  poems 
with  its  melancholy.  Letitia  E.  Landon,  afterwards  Mrs.  Madeau,  died  in 
the  same  year  that  she  was  married. 

NOT  yet — the  flowers  are  in  my  path, 
The  sun  is  in  the  sky; 
Not  yet — my  heart  is  full  of  hope, 
I  cannot  bear  to  die. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  321 

Not  yet — I  never  knew  till  now, 


How  precious  life  could  be; 
[y  heart  is  full  of  love — O  Death, 
I  cannot  come  with  thee! 


But  love  and  hope,  enchanted  twain, 

Passed  in  their  falsehood  by; 
Death  came  again,  and  then  he  said, 

"I'm  ready  now  to  die." 

! 

: 
i 

AFTER  THE  BALL 

i 
BY  NORA  PERRY  COOKK. 


Mrs.  Cooke,  who  has  written  many  golden  poems,  is  a  resident  of  Provi- 
dence, R.  I.,  and  has  published  a  couple  of  volumes  of  sweet  and  graceful 
verse.  As  she  is  still  writing  and  has  an  exuberant  fancy,  coupled  with  a 
gentle  poetic  nature,  pure  and  bird-like  in  its  simplicity,  we  may  expect 
much  good  work  to  succeed  the  exquisite  love  romances  she  has  already 
written. 

THEY  sat  and  combed  their  beautiful  hair, 
Their  long  bright  tresses  one  by  one, 
As  they  laughed  and  talked  in  the  chamber  there, 
After  the  revel  was  done. 

Idly  they  talked  of  waltz  and  quadrille; 

Idly  they  laughed  like  other  girls, 
Who,  over  the  fire,  when  all  is  still, 

Comb  out  their  braids  and  curls. 

Robe  of  satin  and  Brussels  lace, 

Knots  of  flowers  and  ribbons,  too, 
Scattered  about  in  every  place, 

For  the  revel  is  through. 
n 


822  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

And  Maud  and  Madge,  in  robes  of  white, 
The  prettiest  night-gowns  under  the  sun, 

Stockingless,  slipperless,  sit  in  the  night, 
For  the  revel  is  done. 

Sit  and  comb  their  beautiful  hair, 

Those  wonderful  waves  of  brown  and  gold, 

Till  the  fire  is  out  in  the  chamber  there, 
And  the  little  bare  feet  are  cold. 

Then  out  of  the  gathering  winter  chill — 
All  out  of  the  bitter  St.  Agnes  weather, 

While  the  fire  is  out  and  the  house  is  still, 
Maud  and  Madge  together — 

Maud  and  Madge,  in  robes  of  white, 

The  prettiest  night-gowns  under  the  sun, 

Curtained  away  from  the  chilly  night 
After  the  revel  is  done, 

Float  along  in  a  splendid  dream, 
To  a  golden  gittern's  tinkling  tune, 

While  a  thousand  lustres  shimmering  stream, 
In  a  palace's  grand  saloon. 

Flashing  of  jewels  and  flutter  of  laces, 
Tropical  odors  sweeter  than  musk — 

Men  and  women  with  beautiful  faces, 
And  eyes  of  tropical  dusk. 

And  one  face  shining  out  like  a  star; 

One  face  haunting  the  dreams  of  each, 
And  one  voice  sweeter  than  others  are, 

Breaking  in  silvery  speech. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  323 

Telling  through  lips  of  bearded  bloom, 

An  old,  old  story  over  again, 
As  down  the  royal  bannered  room, 

To  the  golden  gittern's  strain, 

Two  and  two  they  dreamily  walk, 

While  an  unseen  spirit  walks  beside, 
And,  all  unheard  in  the  lover's  talk, 

He  claimeth  one  for  a  bride. 

O  Maud  and  Madge!  dream  on  together, 

With  never  a  pang  of  jealous  fear; 
For,  ere  the  bitter  St.  Agnes  weather 

Shall  whiten  another  year, 

Robed  for  the  bridal,  and  robed  for  the  tomb, 

Braided  brown  hair  and  golden  tress, 
There'll  be  only  one  of  you  left  for  the  bloom 

Of  the  bearded  lips  to  press. 

Only  one  for  the  bridal  pearls, 

The  robe  of  satin  and  Brussels  lace — 
Only  one  to  blush  through  her  curls, 

At  the  sight  of  a  lover's  face. 

O  beautiful  Madge,  in  your  bridal  white, 

For  you  the  revel  has  just  begun; 
But  for  her  who  sleeps  in  your  arms  to-night 

The  revel  of  life  is  done ! 

But  robed  and  crowned  with  your  saintly  bliss, 

Queen  of  Heaven  and  bride  of  the  sun, 
O  beautiful  Maud,  you'll  never  miss 

The  kisses  another  hath  won! 


324  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 


LAMENT  OF  THE  IRISH  EMIGRANT. 


BY  LADY  DUFFERIN. 


The  sweet  pathos  of  this  sadly- worded  song  has  never  been  rivaled  by 
any  poem  of  exile  ever  written  or  sung,  and  it  will  always  be  just  as  touch- 
ing to  the  homesick  heart  as  now.  The  writer,  Lady  Dufferin,  is  the  mother, 
and  not  the  wife,  as  erroneously  stated,  of  the  former  Governor-general  of 
Canada.  It  was  published  originally  in  the  year  1838,  and  was  set  to  music 
and  sung  in  every  drawing-room  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  became  espe- 
cially a  favorite  in  America  during  the  year  of  the  Irish  famine,  1848. 

I'M  sittin'  on  the  stile,  Mary, 
Where  we  sat  side  by  side, 
On  a  bright  May  mornin'  long  ago, 

When  first  you  were  my  bride; 
The  corn  was  springin'  fresh  and  green, 

And  the  lark  sung  loud  and  high, 
And  the  red  was  on  your  lip,  Mary, 
And  the  love-light  in  your  eye. 

The  place  is  little  changed,  Mary, 

The  day  is  bright  as  then, 
The  lark's  loud  song  is  in  ray  ear, 

And  the  corn  is  green  again; 
But  I  miss  the  soft  clasp  of  your  hand, 

And  your  breath  warm  on  my  cheek, 
And  I  still  keep  listenin'  for  the  words 

You  never  more  will  speak. 

'Tis  but  a  step  down  yonder  lane, 
And  the  little  church  stands  near, — 

The  church  where  we  were  wed,  Mary, 
I  see  the  spire  from  here; 


WOMEN  AS   POETS. 

But  the  graveyard  lies  between,  Mary, 
And  my  step  might  break  your  rest, — 

For  I've  laid  you,  darling,  down  to  sleep 
With  your  baby  on  your  breast. 

I'm  very  lonely  now,  Mary, 

For  the  poor  make  no  new  friends; 
But,  oh,  they  love  the  better  still 

The  few  our  Father  sends; 
And  you  were  all  I  had,  Mary — 

My  blessin'  and  my  pride; 
There's  nothing  left  to  care  for  now, 

Since  my  poor  Mary  died. 

Yours  was  the  good,  brave  heart,  Mary, 

That  still  kept  hoping  on, 
When  the  trust  in  God  had  left  my  soul, 

And  my  arm's  young  strength  was  gonej 
There  was  comfort  ever  on  your  lip, 

And  the  kind  look  on  your  brow, — 
1  bless  you,  Mary,  for  that  same, 

Though  you  cannot  hear  me  now. 

I  thank  you  for  the  patient  smile 

When  your  heart  was  fit  to  break — 
When  the  hunger-pain  was  gnawin'  there. 

And  you  hid  it  for  my  sake; 
I  bless  you  for  the  pleasant  word, 

When  your  heart  was  sad  and  sore,— 
Oh,  I'm  thankful  you  are  gone,  Mary, 

Where  grief  can't  reach  you  more! 

I'm  bidding  you  a  long  farewell, 
My  Mary,  kind  and  true! 


WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

But  I'll  not  forget  you,  darling, 

In  the  land  I'm  going  to. 
They  say  there's  bread  and  work  for  all, 

And  the  sun  shines  always  there, — 
But  I'll  not  forget  old  Ireland, 

Were  it  fifty  times  as  fair! 

And  often  in  those  grand  old  woods 

I'll  sit  and  shut  my  eyes, 
And  my  heart  will  travel  back  again 

To  the  place  where  Mary  lies; 
And  I'll  think  I  see  the  little  stile 

Where  we  sat  side  by  side, 
And  the  springin'  corn  and  the  bright  May  morn, 

When  first  you  were  my  bride. 


ON  THE  SHORES  OF  TENNESSEE. 


BY  MRS.  ETHEL  LYNN  BEERS. 


The  writer  of  this  beautiful  song  was  born  in  Goshen,  Orange  Co.,  IT.  J., 
in  1827,  and  was  very  popular  as  a  contributor  to  the  New  York  Ledger, 
Harper's  Weekly,  and  other  papers,  under  the  pseudonym  of  Ethel  Lynn, 
to  which  she  added  afterwards  her  married  name.  She  died  in  1879.  The 
old  slave-days  are  recalled  with  vivid  earnestness  by  her  stirring  lines. 

MOVE  my  arm-chair,  faithful  Pompey, 
In  the  sunshine  bright  and  strong, 
For  this  world  is  fading,  Pompey — 

Massa  won't  be  with  you  long; 
And  I  fain  would  hear  the  south  wind 

Bring  once  more  the  sound  to  me, 
Of  the  wavelets  softly  breaking 
On  the  shores  of  Tennessee. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  327 

"  Mournful  though  the  ripples  murmur, 

As  they  still  the  story  tell, 
How  no  vessel  floats  the  banner 

That  I've  loved  so  long  and  well; 
I  shall  listen  to  their  music, 

Dreaming  that  again  I  see 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  sloop  and  shallop, 

Sailing  up  the  Tennessee. 

"  And,  Pompey,  while  Ole  Massa's  waiting 

For  death's  last  dispatch  to  come, 
If  that  exiled  starry  banner 

Should  come  sailing  proudly  home, 
You  shall  greet  it,  slave  no  longer, 

Voice  and  hand  shall  both  be  free, 
That  shout  and  point  to  Union  colors 

On  the  waves  of  Tennessee." 

"Massa's  berry  kind  to  Pompey, 

But  ole  darkey's  happy  here, 
Where  he's  tended  corn  and  cotton 

For  dese  many  a  long  gone  year. 
Over  yonder  Missis'  sleeping, 

No  one  tends  her  grave  like  me, 
Mebbe  she  would  miss  the  flowers 

She  used  to  love  in  Tennessee." 

"  'Pears  like  she  was  watching  Massa, 

If  Pompey  should  beside  him  stay, 
Mebbe  she'd  remember  better 

How  for  him  she  used  to  pray, 
Telling  him  that  way  up  yonder 

White  as  snow  his  soul  would  be, 


328  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

If  he  served  the  Lord  of  Heaven 
While  he  lived  in  Tennessee." 

Silently  the  tears  were  rolling 

Down  the  poor  old  dusky  face, 
As  he  stepped  behind  his  master, 

In  his  long  accustomed  place. 
Then  a  silence  fell  around  them, 

As  they  gazed  on  rock  and  tree, 
Pictured  in  the  placid  waters 

Of  the  rolling  Tennessee. 

Master  dreaming  of  the  battle, 

When  he  fought  by  Marion's  side—- 
When he  bid  the  haughty  Tarlton 

Stoop  his  lordly  crest  of  pride; 
Man,  remembering  how  yon  sleeper 

Once  he  held  upon  his  knee, 
Ere  she  loved  the  gallant  soldier, 

Ralph  Vervair  of  Tennessee. 

Still  the  south  wind  fondly  lingers 

'Mid  the  veteran's  silver  hair; 
Still  the  bondsman,  close  beside  him, 

Stands  beside  the  old-arm  chair, 
With  his  dark-hued  hand  uplifted, 

Shading  eyes  he  bends  to  see 
Where  the  woodland,  boldly  jutting, 

Turns  aside  the  Tennessee. 

Thus  he  watches  cloud-born  shadows 
Glide  from  tree  to  mountain  crest, 

Softly  creeping,  aye  and  ever, 
To  the  river's  yielding  breast. 


•POMPEY,  HOLD  ME  ON  YOUR  SHOULDER, 
HELP  ME  STAND  ON  FOOT  ONCE  MORE." 


WOMEN  AS   POETS. 

Ha,  above  the  foliage  yonder, 

Something  flutters  wild  and  free! 
"Massa!  Massa!  Hallelujah! 

The  flag's  come  back  to  Tennessee!" 

'*  Pompey,  hold  me  on  your  shoulder, 

Help  me  stand  on  foot  once  more, 
That  I  may  salute  the  colors 

As  they  pass  my  cabin  door. 
Here's  the  paper,  signed,  that  frees  you, 

Give  a  freeman's  shout  with  mel 
God  and  Union!  be  our  watchword 

Evermore  in  Tennessee!" 

Then  the  trembling  voice  grew  fainter, 

And  the  limbs  refused  to  stand; 
One  prayer  to  Jesus — and  the  soldier 

Glided  to  the  better  land. 
When  the  flag  went  down  the  river, 

Man  and  master  both  were  free, 
While  the  ring-dove's  note  was  mingled 

With  the  rippling  Tennessee. 


BRAVE  KATE  SHELLEY. 


BY  MRS.  M.  L.  RAYNE. 


It  will  be  remembered  that  Kate  Shelley,  a  young  girl  of  fifteen  years, 
on  that  terrible  night  of  July  6,  1881,  walked  five  miles,  crossing  in  the 
darkness  and  storm  a  long  dangerous  bridge,  to  warn  the  night  express  on 
the  Chicago  and  Northwestern  Railway  of  a  wrecked  train.  When  the 
story  of  her  heroic  behavior  spread  throughout  the  State,  several  funds  for 
her  benefit  were  started,  and,  so  far  as  money  can  pay  for  such  devotion, 
she  has  been  well  rewarded  for  her  night's  work.  At  the  session  of  the 
Iowa  Legislature,  last  winter,  it  was  ordered  that  a  medal  commemorative 
of  the  girl's  bravery  be  struck,  and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  present 
it  to  her.  Her  heroism  was  made  the  theme  of  many  eloquent  speeches. 


330  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

"  How  far  that  little  candle  throws  its  beams. 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world." 

THROUGH  the  whirl  of  wind  and  water  parted  by  the 
rushing  steel, 

Flashed  the  white  glare  of  the  headlight,  flew  the  swift  revolv- 
ing wheel, 

As  the  midnight  train  swept  onward,  bearing  on  its  iron  wings 
Through  the  gloom  of  night  and  tempest,  freightage  of  most 
precious  things. 

Little  children  by  their  mothers  nestle  in  unbroken  rest, 
Stalwart  men  are  dreaming  softly  of  their  journey's  finished  quest, 
While  the  men  who  watch  and  guard  them,  sleepless  stand  at 

post  and  brake; 

Close  the  throttle  !  draw  the  lever !  safe  for  wife  and  sweet- 
heart's sake. 

Sleep  and  dream,  unheeding  danger;  in  the  valley  yonder  lies 
Death's  debris  in  weird  confusion,  altar  fit  for  sacrifice! 
Dark  and  grim  the  shadows  settle  where  the  hidden  perils  wait; 
Swift  the  train,  with  dear  lives  laden,  rushes  to  its  deadly  fate. 

Still  they  sleep  and  dream  unheeding.     Oh,  thou  watchful  One 

above, 

Save  Thy  people  in  this  hour!  save  the  ransomed  of  Thy  love! 
Send  an  angel  from  Thy  heaven  who  shall  calm  the  troubled  air, 
And  reveal  the  powers  of  evil  hidden  in  the  darkness  there. 

Saved!  ere  yet  they  know  their  peril,  comes  a  warning  to  alarm; 
Saved!  the  precious  train  is  resting  on  the  brink  of  deadly  harm. 
God  has  sent  his  angel  to  them,  brave  Kate  Shelley,  hero-child! 
Struggling  on,  alone,  unaided  through  that  night  of  tempest  wild. 

Brave  Kate  Shelley !  tender  maiden,  baby  hands  with  splinters  torn, 
Saved  the  lives  of  sleeping  travelers  swiftly  to  death's  journey 

borne. 
Mothers  wept  and  clasped  their  darlings,  breathing  words  of 

grateful  prayer; 
Men  with  faces  blanched  and  tearful  thanked  God  for  Kate 

Shelley  there. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  331 

Greater  love  than  this  hath  no  man.     When  the  Heavens  shall 

unfold, 

And  the  judgment  books  are  opened,  there  in  characters  of  gold 
Brave  Kate  Shelley's  name  shall  center,  mid  the  pure,  the  brave 

and  good, 
That  of  one  who  crowned  with  glory  her  heroic  womanhood. 


LABOR  IS  WORSHIP. 


BY  FRANCIS  SARGENT  OSGOOD. 


Mrs.  Osgood  struck  a  popular  vein  la  writing  her  poems,  and  they  have 
made  themselves  a  permanent  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  This  is 
particularly  true  of  the  one  below,  which  glorifies  the  humblest  mission  of 
labor  into  a  heroic  achievement.  Mrs.  Osgood  was  born  in  Boston  in  1812, 
and  was  the  daughter  of  a  merchant  named  Locke.  In  1834  she  married 
S.  S.  Osgood,  an  artist.  She  died  in  1850. 

PAUSE  not  to  dream  of  the  future  before  us; 
Pause  not  to  weep  the  wild  cares  that  come  o'er  us. 
Hark,  how  creation's  deep  musical  chorus 

Unintermitting  goes  up  into  Heaven. 
Never  the  ocean  wave  falters  in  flowing; 
Never  the  little  seed  stops  in  its  growing; 
More  and  more  richly  the  rose-heart  keeps  glowing, 
Till  from  its  nourishing  stem  it  is  riven. 

"Labor  is  worship!" — the  robin  is  singing; 
"  Labor  is  worship!" — the  wild  bee  is  ringing; 
Listen!  that  eloquent  whisper  upspringing 

Speaks  to  thy  soul  from  out  Nature's  great  heart. 
From  the  dark  cloud  flows  the  life-giving  shower; 
From  the  rough  sod  blows  the  soft-breathing  flower; 
From  the  small  insect,  the  rich  coral  bower; 

Only  man,  in  the  plan,  ever  shrinks  from  his  part. 


332  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Labor  is  life!     'Tis  the  still  water  faileth; 

Idleness  ever  despaireth,  bewaileth; 

Keep  the  watch  wound,  for  the  dark  rust  assaileth; 

Flowers  droop  and  die  in  the  stillness  of  noon. 
Labor  is  glory! — the  flying  cloud  lightens; 
Only  the  waving  wing  changes  and  brightens; 
Idle  hearts  only  the  dark  future  frightens; 

Play  the  sweet  keys,  wouldst  thou  keep  them  in  tune. 

Labor  is  rest  from  the  sorrows  that  greet  us, 
Rest  from  all  petty  vexations  that  meet  us, 
Rest  from  sin-promptings  that  ever  entreat  us, 

Rest  from  world-sirens  that  lure  us  to  ill. 
Work — and  pure  slumbers  shall  wait  on  thy  pillow; 
Work — thou  shalt  ride  over  Care's  coming  billow; 
Lie  not  down  wearied  'neath  Woe's  weeping-willow; 

Work  with  a  stout  heart  and  resolute  will! 

Labor  is  health!  Lo,  the  husbandman  reaping, 
How  through  his  veins  goes  the  life  current  leaping! 
How  his  strong  arm,  in  its  stalwart  pride  sweeping, 

True  as  a  sunbeam  the  swift  sickle  guides. 
Labor  is  wealth!     In  the  sea  the  pearl  groweth; 
Rich  the  queen's  robe  from  the  frail  cocoon  floweth; 
From  the  fine  acorn  the  strong  forest  bloweth; 

Temple  and  statue  the  marble  block  hides. 

Droop  not,  though  shame,  sin,  and  anguish  are  round  thee; 
Bravely  fling  off  the  cold  chain  that  hath  bound  thee; 
Look  to  yon  pure  heaven  smiling  beyond  thee; 

Rest  not  content  in  thy  darkness — a  clod. 
Work  for  some  good,  be  it  ever  so  slowly; 
Cherish  some  flower,  be  it  ever  so  lowly; 
Labor!  all  labor  is  noble  and  holy; 

Let  thy  great  deeds  be  thy  prayer  to  thy  God. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  333 


THE  YOUTHFUL  PILOT. 


By  Miss  JULIA  PLEASANTS. 
[Written  on  the  death  of  Robert  A.  Whyte.] 

About  thirty  years  ago  George  D.  Prentice,  of  the  Louisville  Journal, 
was  receiving  poetic  contributions  from  a  number  of  young  lady  writters  of 
rare  merit,  whom  he  pleasantly  termed  his  "staff  of  young  lady  poets." 
Among  these  was  "Amelia,"  who,  under  his  kindly  criticism  and  foster- 
ing poetic  care,  became  famous. 

Miss  Julia  Pleasants  (the  "Amelia"  mentioned),  then  in  her  teens,  and 
residing  in  Huntsville,  Ala.,  was  a  leading  favorite  of  his,  and  she  con- 
tributed the  poem  in  question.  Prentice,  in  his  editorial  comment  on  pub- 
lishing it,  remarked  that  "one  might  not  unwillingly  contract  to  die  on 
stipulation  of  such  a  poem  in  memoriam." 

Miss  Pleasants  subsequently  married  Judge  David  Creswell,  a  prominent 
civil  law  jurist,  who  died  a  few  years  since  in  this  State  (Louisiana);  and 
so  the  authoress  became  known  as  Mrs.  Julia  Pleasants  Creswell. 

Alas!  the  sweet  bells  that  chimed  so  harmoniously  now  jangle  sadly  out 
of  tune.  The  fancy  that  wrought  this  beautiful  pen  picture  is  no  longer 
guided  by  reason,  but  is  tossed  and  driven  by  the  weird  fantasies  of  a  mind 
diseased.  Mrs.  Julia  Pleasants  Creswell  is  now  an  inmate  of  the  State 
Lunatic  Asylum  at  Jackson,  La. 

ON"  the  bosom  of  a  river, 
Where  the  sun  unbinds  its  quiver, 
Or  the  starlight  streams  forever, 

Sailed  a  vessel  light  and  free. 
Morning  dewdrops  hung  like  manna 
On  the  bright  folds  of  her  banner, 
While  the  zephyrs  rose  to  fan  her 
Safely  to  the  radiant  sea. 

At  her  prow  a  pilot,  beaming 
In  the  flush  of  youth,  stood  dreaming, 
And  he  was  in  glorious  seeming, 
Like  an  angel  from  above; 


334  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Through  his  hair  the  breezes  sported, 
And,  as  on  the  waves  he  floated, 
Oft  that  pilot,  angel-throated, 

Warbled  lays  of  hope  and  love. 


Through  those  locks  so  brightly  flowing 
Buds  of  laurel  bloom  were*  bio  wing, 
And  his  hands  anon  were  throwing 

Music  from  a  lyre  of  gold. 
Swiftly  down  the  stream  he  glided, 
Soft  the  purple  waves  divided, 
And  a  rainbow  arch  abided 

O'er  his  canvas'  snowy  fold. 

Anxious  hearts,  with  fond  devotion, 
Watched  him  sailing  to  the  ocean, 
Praying  that  no  wild  commotion 

Midst  the  elements  might  rise; 
And  he  seemed  some  young  Apollo 
Charming  summer  winds  to  follow, 
While  the  water-flags  corolla 

Trembled  to  his  music-sighs. 

But  those  purple  waves  enchanted 
Rolled  beside  a  city  haunted 
By  an  awful  spell  that  daunted 

Every  comer  to  her  shore; 
Night  shades  rank  the  air  encumbered, 
And  pale  marble  statues  numbered 
Lotos-eaters,  where  they  slumbered 

And  awoke  to  life  no  more. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  335 

Then  there  rushed  with  lightning  quickness 
O'er  his  face  a  mortal  sickness, 
And  death-dews  in  fearful  thickness 

Gathered  o'er  his  temples  fair; 
And  there  swept  a  mournful  murmur 
Through  the  lovely  Southern  summer, 
As  the  beauteous  pilot  comer 

Perished  by  that  city  there. 

Still  rolls  on  that  radiant  river, 
And  the  sun  unbinds  its  quiver, 
Or  the  starlight  streams  forever 

On  its  bosom,  as  before; 
But  that  vessel's  rainbow  banner 
Greets  no  more  the  gay  savannah, 
And  that  pilot's  lute  drops  manna 

On  the  purple  waves — no  more! 


OVER  THE  RIVER 


BY  MBS.  NANCY  PRIEST  WAKKFIKLD. 


The  writer  of  this  representative  poem  was  born  in  1834,  and  died  in 
1870.  Royalston  and  Winchendon,  Mass.,  both  claim  the  honor  of  her 
birth.  Her  maiden  name  was  Nancy  Amelia  Woodbury,  and  she  married 
Lieutenant  A.  C.  Wakefleld  in  1865.  Her  poem  is  considered  one  of  the 
finest  inspirational  lyrics  in  the  English  language. 

OVER  the  river  they  beckon  to  me, 
Loved  ones  who've  crossed  to  the  farther  side; 
The  gleam  of  their  snowy  robes  I  see, 

But  their  voices  are  drowned  in  the  rushing  tide; 
There's  one  with  ringlets  of  sunny  gold, 

And  eyes  the  reflection  of  Heaven's  own  blue; 


336  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

He  crossed  in  the  twilight  gray  and  cold, 
And  the  pale  mist  hid  him  from  mortal  view; 

We  saw  not  the  angels  who  met  him  there, 
The  gates  of  the  city  we  could  not  see; 

Over  the  river,  over  the  river, 
My  brother  stands  waiting  to  welcome  me. 

Over  the  river,  the  boatman  pale 

Carried  another, — the  household  pet; 
Her  brown  curls  waved  in  the  gentle  gale, 

Darling  Minnie,  I  see  her  yet. 
She  crossed  on  her  bosom  her  dimpled  hands, 

And  fearlessly  entered  the  phantom  bark; 
We  watched  it  glide  from  the  silver  sands, 

And  all  our  sunshine  grew  strangely  dark; 
We  know  she  is  safe  on  the  farther  side, 

Where  all  the  angels  and  ransomed  be; 
Over  the  river,  the  mystic  river, 

My  childhood's  idol  is  waiting  for  me. 

For  none  return  from  those  quiet  shores, 

Who  cross  with  the  boatman,  cold  and  pale; 
We  hear  the  dip  of  the  golden  oars, 

We  catch  a  gleam  of  the  snowy  sail — 
And  lo!  they  have  passed  from  our  yearning  heart; 

They  cross  the  stream  and  are  gone  for  aye; 
We  may  not  sunder  the  veil  apart 

That  hides  from  our  vision  the  gates  of  day; 
We  only  know  that  their  barks  no  more 

May  sail  with  us  over  Life's  stormy  sea; 
Yet,  somewhere  I  know,  on  the  unseen  shore, 

They  watch  and  beckon  and  wait  for  me. , 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  337 


And  I  sit  and  think  when  the  sunset's  gold 

Is  flushing  river  and  hill  and  shore, 
I  shall  one  day  stand  by  the  water  cold, 

And  list  for  the  sound  of  the  boatman's  oar; 
I  shall  watch  for  a  gleam  of  the  flapping  sail, 

I  shall  hear  the  boat  as  it  gains  the  strand, 
I  shall  pass  from  sight  with  the  boatman  pale 

To  the  better  shore  of  the  spirit  land; 
I  shall  know  the  loved  who  have  gone  before, 

And  joyfully  sweet  will  the  meeting  be, 
When  over  the  river,  the  peaceful  river, 

The  Angel  of  Death  shall  carry  me. 


IF. 

BY  MAT  RILKT  SMITH. 

The  writer  of  this  pathetic  poem  is  Mrs.  Albert  Smith,  of  Chicago,  111., 
but  formerly  May  Louise  Riley,  of  Brighton,  New  York,  where  she  was 
born  in  1842.  She  is  a  magazine  writer,  and  excels  in  descriptive  poems  of 
a  personal  nature. 

IF,  sitting  with  this  little  worn-out  shoe 
And  scarlet  stocking  lying  on  my  knee, 
I  knew  the  little  feet  had  pattered  through 

The  pearl-set  gates  that  lie  'twixt  heaven  and  me, 
I  could  be  reconciled  and  happy,  too, 

And  look  with  glad  eyes  toward  the  Jasper  sea. 

If,  in  the  morning,  when  the  song  of  birds 
Reminds  me  of  a  music  far  more  sweet, 

I  listen  for  his  pretty,  broken  words, 
And  for  the  music  of  his  dimpled  feet, 

I  could  be  almost  happy,  though  I  heard 
No  answer,  and  but  saw  his  vacant  seat. 

28 


338  WHAT   CAN   A    WOMAN   DO. 

I  could  be  glad  if,  when  the  day  is  done, 

And  all  its  cares  and  heartaches  laid  away, 
I  could  look  westward  to  the  hidden  sun, 

And,  with  a  heart  full  of  sweet  yearnings,  say: 
lt  To-night  I'm  nearer  to  ray  little  one, 
By  just  the  travel  of  a  single  day." 

If  I  could  know  these  little  feet  were  shod 
In  sandals  wrought  of  light  in  better  lands, 

And  that  the  foot-prints  of  a  tender  God 
Ran  side  by  side  with  him  in  golden  sands, 

I  could  bow  cheerfully  and  kiss  the  rod, 
Since  Benny  was  in  safer,  wiser  hands. 

If  he  were  dead  I  would  not  sit  to-day 

And  stain  with  tears  the  wee  sock  on  my  knee; 

I  would  not  kiss  the  tiny  shoe  and  say, 
"Bring  back  again  my  little  boy  to  me!" 

I  would  be  patient,  knowing  it  was  God's  way, 
And  wait  to  meet  him  o'er  death's  silent  sea. 

But,  oh,  to  know  the  feet  once  pure  and  white, 
The  haunts  of  vice  had  boldly  ventured  in; 

The  hands  that  should  have  battled  for  the  right, 
Had  been  wrung  crimson  in  the  clasp  of  sin, 

And,  should  he  knock  at  Heaven's  gate  to-nightj 
To  fear  my  boy  could  hardly  enter  in  I 


SENT  TO  HEAVEN. 

BY  ADELAIDE  ANN  PROCTER. 


Miss  Procter  was  born  in  Bedford  Square,  London,  on  the  30th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1825,  and  died  on  the  3d  of  February,  1864.     Her  father  was  distin- 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  339 

guished  in  literature,  under  the  nom-dc-plume  of  Barry  Cornwall,  and  was 
the  intimate  friend  of  Charles  Dickens.  She  was  highly  educated,  of  a 
serious,  sensitive  nature,  and  sacrificed  her  strength  in  a  round  of  benevo- 
lent pursuits,  under  the  conviction  that  her  life  must  be  devoted  to  miti- 
gating the  sufferings  of  mankind.  Her  poems  are  comprised  in  one  small 
volume,  edited  by  Charles  Dickens,  and  are  greatly  quoted  and  admired. 
The  one  given  here  is  set  to  music,  and  sung  under  the  title  of  The  Mes- 
sage. It  is  popular,  both  as  a  poem  and  a  concert  piece. 

I  HAD  a  message  to  send  her — 
To  her  whom  my  soul  loved  best, 
But  I  had  my  task  to  finish, 

And  she  was  gone  home  to  rest. 

To  rest  in  the  far  bright  Heaven, 

Oh,  so  far  away  from  here, 
It  was  vain  to  speak  to  my  darling, 

For  I  knew  she  could  not  hear. 

I  had  a  message  to  send  her, 

So  tender  and  true  and  sweet; 
I  longed  for  an  angel  to  bear  it, 

And  lay  it  down  at  her  feet. 

I  placed  it,  one  summer  evening, 

On  a  cloudlet's  fleecy  breast, 
But  it  faded  in  golden  splendor, 

And  died  in  the  crimson  west. 

I  gave  it  the  lark  next  morning, 

And  I  watched  it  soar  and  soar, 
But  its  pinions  grew  faint  and  weary, 

And  it  fluttered  to  earth  once  more. 


340  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

To  the  heart  of  a  rose  I  told  it, 
And  the  perfume  sweet  and  rare, 

Growing  faint  on  the  blue,  bright  ether, 
Was  lost  in  the  balmy  air. 

I  laid  it  upon  a  censer, 

And  I  saw  the  incense  rise, 

But  its  clouds  of  rolling  silver 

Could  not  reach  the  far  blue  skies. 

I  cried  in  my  passionate  longing; — 
"  Has  the  earth  no  Angel  friend 

Who  will  carry  my  love  the  message 
That  my  heart  desires  to  send  ?" 

Then  I  heard  a  strain  of  music 
So  mighty,  so  pure,  so  clear, 

That  my  very  sorrow  was  silent, 
And  my  heart  stood  still  to  hear. 

And  I  felt  in  my  soul's  deep  yearning 
At  last  the  sure  answer  stir — 

The  music  will  go  up  to  Heaven 
And  carry  my  thought  to  her." 


It  rose  in  harmonious  rushing 
Of  mingled  voices  and  strings, 

And  I  tenderly  laid  my  message 
On  the  music's  outspread  wings. 

I  heard  it  float  farther  and  farther, 
In  sound  more  perfect  tnan  speech, 

Farther  than  sight  can  follow, 
Farther  than  soul  can  reach. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  341 

And  I  know  that  at  last  my  message 

Has  passed  through  the  golden  gate, 
So  my  heart  is  no  longer  restless, 

And  I  am  content  to  wait. 


SOMEBODY'S  DARLING. 


BY  MARIA  R.  LA  CASTE. 


This  exquisite  ballad  is  usually  published  as  anonymous.  Like  Beau- 
tiful Snow,  it  has  had  a  number  of  claimants,  but  no  name  has  remained 
attached  to  it  until  Epes  Sargent  rescued  it  in  1880,  and  published  it  in  his 
collection,  with  extracts  from  letters  written  by  Miss  La  Caste.  The  poem 
was  first  published,  with  her  name  attached,  in  the  Southern  Churchman. 
She  was  living  in  Savannah,  Georgia,  when  she  published  it.  She  is  of 
French  parentage,  and  dislikes  anything  like  notoriety.  She  is  an  attract- 
ive lady,  accomplished,  and  of  superior  mental  qualifications,  but  has  no 
desire  to  shine  in  the  world  of  letters. 

INTO  a  ward  of  the  white-washed  walls 
Where  the  dead  and  the  dying  lay, 
Wounded  by  bayonets,  shells,  and  balls, 

Somebody's  darling  was  borne  one  day. 
Somebody's  darling,  so  young  and  so  brave, 

Wearing  yet  on  his  pale,  sweet  face — 
Soon  to  be  hid  by  the  dust  of  the  grave — 
The  lingering  light  of  his  boyhood's  grace. 

Matted  and  damp  are  the  curls  of  gold 
Kissing  the  sun  of  that  fair  young  brow; 

Pale  are  the  lips  of  delicate  mold — 
Somebody's  darling  is  dying  now. 

Back  from  the  beautiful  blue-veined  brow 
Brush  all  the  wandering  waves  of  gold; 


349  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

Cross  his  hands  on  his  bosom  now, 
Somebody's  darling  is  still  and  cold. 

Kiss  him  once  for  somebody's  sake, 

Murmur  a  prayer  soft  and  low; 
One  bright  curl  from  its  fair  mates  take; 

They  were  somebody's  pride  you  know. 
Somebody's  hand  hath  rested  there — 

Was  it  a  mother's  soft  and  white — 
And  have  the  lips  of  a  sister  fair 

Been  baptized  in  those  waves  of  light  ? 

God  knows  best!     He  was  somebody's  love; 

"Somebody's"  heart  enshrined  him  there; 
"  Somebody  "  wafted  his  name  above, 

Morn  and  night  on  the  wings  of  prayer. 
"  Somebody  "  wept  when  he  marched  away, 

Looking  so  handsome,  brave,  and  grand; 
"  Somebody's  "  kiss  on  his  forehead  lay, 

"  Somebody  "  clung  to  his  parting  hand. 

"  Somebody's  "  watching  and  waiting  for  him, 

Yearning  to  hold  him  again  to  their  heart; 
And  there  he  lies  with  his  blue  eyes  dim, 

And  the  smiling,  child-like  lips  apart. 
Tenderly  bury  the  fair  young  dead, 

Pausing  to  drop  on  his  grave  a  tear, 
Carve  on  the  wooden  slab  at  his  head, 

"Somebody's  darling  slumbers  here." 


WOMEN   AS    POETS.  343 

DRIVING  HOME  THE  COWS. 


BY  KATE  P.  OSGOOD. 


Kate  Putnam  Osgood  has  written  many  touching  and  pretty  poems  on 
homely,  familiar  subjects.  She  was  born  in  Fryeburg,  Maine,  in  1840,  and 
has  done  a  great  deal  of  miscellaneous  literary  work  that  is  far  above 
mediocrity. 

OUT  of  the  clover  and  blue-eyed  grass 
He  turned  them  into  the  river  lane; 
One  after  another  he  let  them  pass, 
Then  fastened  the  meadow  bars  again. 

Under  the  willows  and  over  the  hill, 

He  patiently  followed  their  sober  pace; 
The  merry  whistle  for  once  was  still, 

And  something  shadowed  the  sunny  face. 

Only  a  boy! — and  his  father  had  said 

He  never  could  let  his  youngest  go; 
Two  already  were  lying  dead 

Under  the  feet  of  the  trampling  foe. 

But  after  the  evening  work  was  done, 

And  frogs  were  loud  in  the  meadow  swamp, 

Over  his  shoulder  he  slung  his  gun, 

And  stealthily  followed  the  foot-path  damp. 

Across  the  clover  and  through  the  wheat, 

With  resolute  heart  and  purpose  grim; 
Though  cold  was  the  dew  on  his  hurrying  feet, 

And  the  blind  bat's  flitting  startled  him. 

Thrice  since  then  had  the  lanes  been  white, 
And  the  orchards  sweet  with  apple-bloom; 


344  WHAT  CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

And  now,  when  the  cows  came  back  at  night, 
The  feeble  father  drove  them  home. 

For  news  had  come  to  the  lonely  farm 

That  three  were  lying  where  two  had  lain, 

And  the  old  man's  tremulous,  palsied  arm 
Could  never  lean  on  a  son's  again. 

The  summer  day  grew  cool  and  late — 

He  went  for  the  cows  when  the  work  was  done; 

But  down  the  lane,  as  he  opened  the  gate, 
He  saw  them  coming  one  by  one. 

Brindle,  Ebony,  Speckle,  and  Bess, 

Shaking  their  horns  on  the  evening  wind, 

Cropping  the  butterflies  out  of  the  grass, 
But  who  was  it  following  close  behind. 

Loosely  swung  in  the  idle  air 

The  empty  sleeve  of  army  blue; 
And  worn  and  pale  from  the  crisping  air, 

Looked  out  a  face  that  the  father  knew. 

For  Southern  prisons  will  sometimes  yawn 
And  yield  their  dead  unto  life  again, 

And  the  day  that  comes  with  a  cloudy  dawn 
In  golden  glory  at  last  may  wane. 

The  great  tears  sprang  to  their  meeting  eyes, 

For  the  heart  must  speak  when  the  lips  are  dumb, 

And  under  the  silent  evening  skies 

Together  they  followed  the  cattle  home. 


•THE  GREAT  TEARS  SPRANG  TO  THEIR  MEETING  EYES, 
FOR  THE  HEART  MUST  SPEAK  WHEN  THE  LIPS  ARC  DUMB.1* 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  345 


THE  OLD  ARM-CHAIR. 


BY  ELIZA  COOK. 


This  favorite  English  writer  was  born  in  1817,  in  Southwark,  London. 
Her  poems  are  mostly  on  homely  household  topics,  and  are  written  with 
but  little  exercise  of  the  power  of  imagination,  but  they  have  always 
pleased  a  large  class  of  people.  It  is  nearly  half  a  century  since  The  Old 
Arm-Chair  was  a  popular  song.  It  is  now  found  in  many  of  our  best  col- 
lections of  fireside  poetry. 

I    LOVE  it,  I  love  it,  and  who  shall  dare 
To  chide  me  for  loving  the  old  arm-chair; 
I've  treasured  it  long  as  a  sainted  prize; 
I've  bedewed  it  with  tears,  and  embalmed  it  with  sighs; 
*Tis  bound  by  a  thousand  ties  to  my  heart — 
Not  a  tie  will  break,  not  a  link  will  start; 
Would  ye  learn  the  spell,  a  mother  sat  there, 
And  a  sacred  thing  is  that  old  arm-chair. 

In  childhood's  hour  I  lingered  near 

The  hallowed  seat  with  listening  ear, 

And  gentle  words  that  mother  would  give 

To  fit  me  to  die  and  teach  me  to  live; 

She  told  me  shame  would  never  betide, 

With  truth  for  my  creed  and  God  for  my  guide; 

She  taught  me  to  lisp  my  earliest  prayer, 

As  I  knelt  beside  that  old  arm-chair. 

I  sat  and  watched  her  many  a  day, 
When  her  eye  grew  dim,  and  her  locks  were  gray, 
And  I  almost  worshipped  her  when  she  smiled, 
And  turned  from  her  Bible  to  bless  her  child. 


346  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Years  rolled  on,  but  the  last  one  sped — 
My  idol  was  shattered,  my  earth  star  fled; 
I  learned  how  much  the  heart  can  bear, 
When  I  saw  her  die  in  that  old  arm-chair. 

'Tis  past!  'tis  past!  but  I  gaze  on  it  now 
With  quivering  breath  and  throbbing  brow; 
'Twas  there  she  nursed  me,  'twas  there  she  died, 
And  memory  flows  with  lava  tide; 
Say  it  is  folly  and  deem  me  weak, 
While  the  scalding  drops  start  down  my  cheek; 
But  I  love  it,  I  love  it,  and  cannot  tear 
My  soul  from  a  mother's  old  arm-chair. 

PHILIP,  MY  KING. 


BY  Miss  MULOCK. 

Miss  Mulock  is  better  known  as  the  author  of  John  Halifax,  and  other 
popular  novels,  than  as  a  poet;  yet,  there  is  hardly  a  collection  of  fine 
poems  to  be  found  which  does  not  include  one  from  her  pen.  As  a  writer 
she  has  been  before  the  public  for  nearly  half  a  centuiy.  Miss  Mulock  was 
born  in  1826,  and  married  to  Mr.  Craik  in  1865.  John  Halifax  was  written 
in  1857.  She  contributes  to  English  and  American  periodicals,  and  is  popu- 
lar with  all  classes  of  readers.  As  a  writer  she  is  best  known  by  her  maiden 
name,  Dinah  Maria  Mulock;  her  poem  and  song,  Philip,  my  King,  is  the 
best  known  of  her  verses.  Miss  Mulock  was  born  in  England,  at  Stoke- 
upon-Trent,  Staffordshire. 

"  Who  bears  upon  his  baby  brow  the  round 
And  top  of  sovereignty." 

LOOK  at  me  with  thy  large  brown  eyes, 
Philip,  my  king. 

Round  whom  the  enshadowing  purple  lies 
Of  babyhood's  royal  dignities. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  347 

Lay  on  my  neck  thy  tiny  hand 
With  love's  invisible  sceptre  laden, 
I  am  thine  Esther  to  command 
Till  thou  shalt  find  a  queen-handmaiden, 
Philip,  my  king. 

Oh,  the  day  when  thou  goest  a-wooing, 

Philip,  my  king, 

When  those  beautiful  lips  'gin  suing, 
And  some  gentle  heart's  bars  undoing, 
Thou  dost  enter  love-crowned,  and  there 
Sittest  love-glorified.     Rule  kindly, 
Tenderly  over  thy  kingdom  fair, 
For  we  that  love,  ah!  we  love  so  blindly, 

Philip,  my  king. 

Up  from  thy  sweet  mouth — up  to  thy  brow, 

Philip,  my  king, 

The  spirit  that  there  lies  sleeping  now 
May  rise  like  a  giant  and  make  men  bow, 
As  to  one  heaven-chosen  amongst  his  peers. 
My  Saul,  than  thy  brethren  taller  and  fairer, 
Let  me  behold  thee  in  future  years — 
Yet  thy  head  needeth  a  circlet  rarer, 

Philip,  my  king. 

A  wreath,  not  of  gold,  but  of  palm — one  day, 

Philip,  my  king. 

Thou,  too,  must  tread  as  we  trod,  a  way 
Thorny  and  cruel,  and  cold  and  gray; 
Rebels  within  thee,  and  foes  without, 
Will  snatch  at  thy  crown.     But  march  on,  glorious 
Martyr,  yet  monarch,  till  angels  shout, 
As  thou  sit'st  at  the  feet  or  God,  victorious, 

"Philip,  the  king!" 


348  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  STORKS  AND  THE  BABIES. 


BY  ELLA  WHEELER. 


Miss  Ella  Wheeler  is  a  native  of  Wisconsin,  and  is  still  a  comparatively 
young  woman.  She  has  published  a  volume  of  poems  recently,  on  the  pas- 
sions and  affections,  which  has  been  received  with  much  favor,  and  upon 
her  donating  a  copy  to  the  public  library  at  Milwaukee,  Wis.,  the  citizens 
presented  her  with  a  purse  of  $500  in  gold,  as  a  testimonial  of  their  esteem. 
Miss  Wheeler  has  made  literature  her  profession  since  she  was  fifteen  years 
old. 

HAVE  you  heard  of  the  valley  of  Babyland, 
The  realm  where  the  dear  little  darlings  stay, 
Till  the  kind  storks  go,  as  all  men  know, 
And  oh,  so  tenderly  bring  them  away  ? 
The  paths  are  winding  and  past  all  finding 

By  all  save  the  storks,  who  understand 
The  gates  and  the  highways,  and  the  intricate  byways 
That  lead  to  Babyland. 

All  over  the  valley  of  Babyland 

Sweet  flowers  bloom  in  the  soft  green  moss, 
And  under  the  blooms  fair,  and  under  the  leaves  there, 

Lie  little  heads  like  spools  of  floss. 
With  a  soothing  number,  the  river  of  slumber 

Flows  o'er  a  bed  of  silver  sand; 
And  angels  are  keeping  watch  o'er  the  sleeping 

Babes  of  Babyland. 

The  path  to  the  valley  of  Babyland 
Only  the  kingly  white  storks  know. 

If  they  fly  over  mountains  or  wade  thro'  fountains- 
No  man  sees  them  come  and  go; 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  349 

But  an  angel,  maybe,  who  guards  some  baby, 

Or  a  fairy,  perhaps,  with  her  magic  wand, 
Brings  them  straightway  to  the  wonderful  gateway 

That  leads  to  Babyland. 

And  there  in  the  valley  of  Babyland, 

Under  the  mosses  and  leaves  and  ferns, 
Like  an  unfledged  starling,  they  find  the  darling, 

For  whom  the  heart  of  a  mother  yearns. 
And  they  lift  him  lightly  and  tuck  him  tightly 

In  feathers  as  soft  as  a  lady's  hand, 
And  off  with  a  rock-a-way  step  they  walk  away 

Out  of  Babyland. 

As  they  go  from  the  valley  of  Babyland 

Forth  into  the  world  of  great  unrest, 
Sometimes  weeping  he  wakes  from  sleeping 

Before  he  reaches  his  mother's  breast. 
Oh,  how  she  blesses  him,  how  she  caresses  him:— 

Bonniest  bird  in  the  bright  home  band, 
That  o'er  land  and  water  the  kind  stork  bro't  her 

From  far  off  Babyland. 


MEASURING  THE  BABY. 
BY  EMMA  ALICE  BROWNE. 


Emma  Alice  Browne  (Mrs.  E.  A.  Bevar)  is  at  present  a  resident  of  Dan- 
ville, 111.,  where,  in  a  quiet  home,  she  devotes  her  life  to  literary  pursuits. 
The  sweet,  pathetic  little  poem  on  "  Measuring  the  Baby  "  was  written 
during  a  night  vigil  at  the  cradle  of  a  beloved  child,  "sick  unto  death." 
Mrs.  Bevar  has  kindly  written  and  corrected  it  for  this  publication,  and 
alludes  to  it  in  touching  language  as  a  real  incident  in  her  own  life.  The 
lady  is  a  Southerner,  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman,  the  Rev.  William  A. 


350  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

Browne,  who  died  when  his  gifted  daughter  was  still  very  young.  In  a  pri- 
vate letter  Mrs.  Bevar  says  :  "At  thirteen  I  was  a  regular  and  paid  con- 
tributor to  the  Louisville  (Ky.)  Journal,  the  New  York  Ledger,  Philadel- 
phia Saturday  Evening  Post,  and  other  current  publications."  Mrs.  Bevar 
is  a  lineal  descendant  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  the  English  poetess,  whose  maiden 
name  was  Browne,  and  has  much  of  that  graceful  style  of  writing  pathetic 
verse  with  a  delicacy  of  poetic  fervor  that  is  wholly  original.  Mrs.  Bevar 
has  been  a  widow  for  some  years,  although  still  a  young  woman. 

WE  measured  the  riotous  baby 
Against  the  cottage  wall; 
A  lily  grew  at  the  threshold, 

And  the  boy  was  just  so  tall! 
A  royal  tiger  lily, 

With  spots  of  purple  and  gold, 
And  a  heart  like  a  jeweled  chalice, 
The  fragrant  dews  to  hold. 

His  eyes  were  wide  as  blue-bells, 

His  mouth  like  a  flower  unblown, 
Two  little  bare  feet,  like  funny  white  mice, 

Peep'd  out  from  his  snowy  gown; 
And  we  thought,  with  a  thrill  of  rapture, 

That  yet  had  a  touch  of  pain, 
When  June  rolls  around  with  her  roses 

We'll  measure  the  boy  again! 

Ah,  me!     In  a  darkened  chamber, 

With  the  sunshine  shut  away, 
Thro'  tears  that  fell  like  a  bitter  rain, 

We  measured  the  boy  to-day! 
And  the  little  bare  feet,  that  were  dimpled 

And  sweet  as  a  budding  rose, 
Lay  side  by  side  together, 

In  the  hush  of  a  long  repose! 


"WE  MEASURED  THE  RIOTOUS  BABY 

AGAINST  THE  COTTAGE  WALL; 
A  LILLY  GREW  AT  THE  THRESHOLD, 
AND  THE  BOY  WAS  JUST  SO  TALU." 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  351 

Up  from  the  dainty  pillow, 

White  ad  the  rising  dawn, 
The  fair  little  face  lay  smiling, 

With  the  light  of  Heaven  thereon! 
And  the  dear  little  hands,  like  rose-leaves 

Dropt  from  a  rose,  lay  still — 
Never  to  snatch  at  the  sunbeams 

That  crept  to  the  shrouded  sill! 

We  measured  the  sleeping  baby 

With  ribbons  white  as  snow, 

For  the  shining  rose-wood  casket 

That  waited  him  below: 
' 

And  out  of  the  darkened  chamber 

We  went  with  a  childless  moan: — 
To  the  height  of  the  sinless  Angels 

Our  little  one  had  grown! 


FAITH  AND  REASON. 


BY  LIZZIE  YORK  CASE. 

Mrs.  Lizzie  York  Case  is  a  Southern  lady,  a  resident  of  Baltimore  and 
vicinity  for  many  years,  and  at  present  living  at  Mobile,  Alabama,  where 
her  husband,  Lieutenant  J.  Madison  Case,  is  stationed  in  the  service  of  the 
United  States  Navy.  Mrs.  Case  is  descended  from  Quaker  ancestry,  and 
much  of  the  grace  and  versatility  of  character  she  possesses  is  derived  from 
that  source.  Many  of  her  poems  have  been  published  in  household  collec- 
tions and  school  readers,  and  are  much  admired  for  their  high  educational 
standard. 

"*WO  trave^rs  started  on  a  tour 
-*-       With  trust  and  knowledge  laden; 
One  was  a  man  with  mighty  brain, 
And  one  a  gentle  maiden. 


352  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

They  joined  their  hands  and  vowed  to  be 
Companions  for  a  season. 
The  gentle  maiden's  name  was  Faith, 
The  mighty  man's  was  Reason. 

He  sought  all  knowledge  from  this  world, 

And  every  world  anear  it; 

All  matter  and  all  mind  were  his, 

But  hers  was  only  spirit. 

If  any  stars  were  missed  from  Heaven, 

His  telescope  could  find  them; 

But  while  he  only  found  the  stars, 

She  found  the  GOD  behind  them. 

He  sought  for  truth  above,  below, 
All  hidden  things  revealing; 
She  only  sought  it  woman-wise, 
And  found  it  in  her  feeling. 
He  said,  "  This  Earth  's  a  rolling  ball," 
And  so  doth  science  prove  it; 
He  but  discovered  that  it  moves, 
She  found  the  springs  that  move  it. 

He  reads  with  geologic  eye 
The  record  of  the  ages; 
Unfolding  strata,  he  translates 
Earth's  wonder-written  pages. 
He  digs  around  a  mountain  base 
And  measures  it  with  plummet; 
She  leaps  it  with  a  single  bound 
And  stands  upon  the  summit. 

He  brings  to  light  the  hidden  force 
In  nature's  labyrinths  lurking, 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  353 


And  binds  it  to  his  onward  car 

To  do  his  mighty  working. 

He  sends  his  message  'cross  the  earth, 

And  down  where  sea  gems  glisten; 

She  sendeth  hers  to  GOD  himself, 

Who  bends  His  ear  to  listen. 

All  things  in  science,  beauty,  art, 
In  common  they  inherit; 
But  he  has  only  clasped  the  form, 
While  she  has  clasped  the  spirit. 

He  tries  from  Earth  to  forge  a  key 
To  ope  the  gate  of  Heaven ! 
That  key  is  in  the  maiden's  heart, 
And  back  its  bolts  are  driven. 
They  part !     Without  her  all  is  dark; 
His  knowledge  vain  and  hollow. 
For  Faith  has  entered  in  with  GOD, 
Where  Reason  may  not  follow. 


REQUIESCAM. 


Mrs.  Robert  S.  Howland,  an  American  lady,  who  is  not  known  as  n 
writer,  is  the  author  of  this  beautiful  poem,  said  to  have  been  found  under 
the  pillow  of  a  wounded  soldier  near  Port  Royal,  1864. 

I    LAY  me  down  to  sleep, 
With  little  thought  or  care 
Whether  my  waking  find 
Me  here  or  there. 

A  bowing,  burdened  head, 
That  only  asks  to  rest 


354  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

Unquestioningly  upon 
A  loving  breast. 

My  good  right  hand  forgets 

It's  cunning  now — 
To  march  the  weary  march 

I  know  not  how. 

I  am  not  eager,  bold, 

Nor  strong — all  that  is  past. 

I  am  ready  not  to  do 
At  last !  at  last ! 

My  half -day's  work  is  done, 
And  this  is  all  my  part; 

I  give  a  patient  God 
My  patient  heart. 

And  grasp  his  banner  still 
Though  all  its  blue  be  dim; 

These  stripes,  no  less  than  stars, 
Lead  after  Him. 


HANNAH  BINDING  SHOES. 


BY  LUCY  LARCOM. 


IOOR,  lone  Hannah, 

Sitting  at  the  window  binding  shoes, 

Faded,  wrinkled, 

Sitting,  stitching  in  a  mournful  muse; 
Bright-eyed  beauty  once  was  she 
When  the  bloom  was  on  the  tree. 

Spring  and  winter 
Hannah's  at  the  window  binding  shoes. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS. 

Not  a  neighbor 
Passing,  nod  or  answer  will  refuse 

To  her  whisper, 

Is  there  from  the  fishers  any  news  ? 
Oh,  her  heart's  adrift  with  one 
On  an  endless  voyage  gone. 

Night  and  morning 
Hannah's  at  the  window  binding  shoes. 

Fair  young  Hannah ! 
Ben,  the  sun-burned  fisher,  gayly  wooes; 

Hale  and  clever, 

For  a  willing  heart  and  hand  he  sues. 
May-day  skies  are  all  aglow, 
And  the  waves  are  laughing  so, 

For  her  wedding, 
Hannah  leaves  her  window  and  her  shoes. 

May  is  passing. 
}Mid  the  apple-boughs  a  pigeon  coos. 

Hannah  shudders, 

For  the  mild  south-wester  mischief  brews. 
Round  the  rocks  of  Marblehead, 
Outward  bound  a  schooner  sped, 

Silent — lonesome, 
Hannah's  at  the  window  binding  shoes. 

'Tis  November; 
Now  no  tear  her  wasted  cheek  bedews. 

From  Newfoundland 
Not  a  sail  returning  will  she  lose, 
Whispering  hoarsely,  "  Fishermen, 
Have  you,  have  you  heard  of  Ben." 

Old  with  watching, 
Hannah's  at  the  window  binding  shoes. 


356  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

Twenty  winters 
Bleach  and  tear  the  ragged  shore  she  views; 

Twenty  seasons, 

Never  one  has  brought  her  any  news. 
Still  her  dim  eyes  silently 
Chase  the  white  sail  o'er  the  sea. 

Hopeless,  faithful, 
Hannah's  at  the  window  binding  shoes. 


CURFEW  MUST  NOT  RING  TO-NIGHT. 


BY  MRS.  ROSA  HARTWICK  THORPE. 


ENGLAND'S  sun  was  slowly  setting  o'er  the  hill-tops  far 
away, 

Filling  all  the  land  with  beauty  at  the  close  of  one  sad  day; 
And  its  last  rays  kissed  the  forehead  of  a  man  and  maiden  fair, — 
He  with  steps  so  slow  and  weary;  she  with  sunny,  floating  hair; 
He  with  bowed  head,  sad  and  thoughtful;  she  with  lips  so  cold 

and  white, 

Struggled  to  keep  back  the  murmur,  "  Curfew  must  not  ring  to- 
night." 

"  Sexton,"  Bessie's  white  lips  faltered,  pointing  to  the  prison  old, 
With  its  walls  so   tall  and  gloomy, — moss-grown  walls  dark, 
damp,  and  cold, — 

!   { 

"  I've  a  lover  in  that  prison,  doomed  this  very  night  to  die, 
At  the  ringing  of  the  curfew,  and  no  earthly  help  is  nigh. 
Cromwell  will  not  come  till  sunset,"  and  her  lips  grew  strangely 

white, 
As   she    spoke   in  husky    whispers,    "Curfew   must   not    ring 

to-night." 


•SHE  WITH  QUICK  STEP  BOUNDED  FORWARD.  SPRANG  WITHIN  THE  OLD 
CHURCH  DOOR." 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  357 

"Bessie,"  calmly  spoke  the   sexton   (every  word  pierced  her 

young  heart 
Like  a  gleaming  death-winged  arrow — like  a  deadly  poisoned 

dart, 
"Long,   long   years   I've  rung  the  curfew  from  that  gloomy, 

shadowed  tower; 

Every  evening,  just  at  sunset,  it  has  tolled  the  twilight  hour. 
I  have  done  my  duty  ever,  tried  to  do  it  just  and  right; 
Now    I'm  old,   I  will   not   miss   it.   Curfew   bell   must  ring 

to-night !" 

Wild  her  eyes   and  pale  her  features,   stern  and  white  her 

thoughtful  brow; 

And  within  her  heart's  deep  centre  Bessie  made  a  solemn  vow. 
She  had  listened  while  the  judges  read,  without  a  tear  or  sigh, 
"  At  the  ringing  of  the  Curfew  Basil  Underwood  must  die" 
And  her  breath  came  fast  and  faster,  and  her  eyes  grew  large 

and  bright; 
One  low  murmur,  faintly  spoken,   "Curfew    must   not    ring 

to-night !" 

She  with  quick  step  bounded  forward,  sprang  within  the  old 

church-door, 

Left  the  old  man  coming  slowly,  paths  he'd  trod  so  oft  before; 
Not  one  moment  paused  the  maiden,  but  with  cheek  and  brow 

aglow, 
Staggered  up  the  gloomy  tower,  where  the  bell  swung  to  and 

fro; 
As  she   climbed   the   slimy  ladder,    on   which   fell   no   ray    of 

light, 
Upward  still,   her  pale  lips  saying,   "Curfew  shall  not  ring 

to-night !" 


358  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

She  has  reached  the  topmost  ladder;  o'er  her  hangs  the  great 

dark  bell; 

Awful  is  the  gloom  beneath  her,  like  the  pathway  down  to  hell. 
See  !  the  ponderous  tongue  is  swinging;  'tis  the  hour  of  curfew 

now, 
And  the  sight  has  chilled  her  bosom,  stopped  her  breath  and 

paled  her  brow. 
Shall  she  let  it  ring  ?    No,  never !  her  eyes  flash  with  sudden 

light, 
As  she  springs,  and  grasps  it  firmly:  "Curfew  shall  not  ring 

to-night  !" 

Out  she  swung,  far  out, — the  city  seemed   a  speck  of  light 

below — 
There,  'twixt  heaven  and  earth  suspended,  as  the  bell  swung  to 

and  fro. 

And  the  Sexton  at  the  bell-rope,  old  and  deaf,  heard  not  the  bell, 
Sadly  thought  that  twilight  curfew  rang  young  Basil's  funeral 

knell; 
Still  the  maiden  clinging,  firmly,  quivering  lip  and  fair  face 

white, 
Stilled  her  frightened  heart's  wild  beating:   "  Curfew  shall  not 

ring  to-night" 

It  was  o'er — the  bell  ceased  swaying;  and  the  maiden  stepped 

once  more 

Firmly  on  the  damp  old  ladder,  where  for  hundred  years  before 
Human  foot  had  not  been  planted.     The  brave  deed  that  she 

had  done 

Should  be  told  the  long  ages  after.     As  the  rays  of  setting  sun 
Light  the  sky  with  golden  beauty,  aged  sires,  with  heads   of 

white, 
Tell  the  children  why  the  Curfew  did  not  ring  that  one  sad  night. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  359 

O'er  the  distant  hills  comes  Cromwell.     Bessie  sees  him;  and  her 


i 

brow, 


Lately  white  with  sickening  horror,  has  no  anxious  traces  now. 
At  his  feet  she  tells  her  story,  shows  her  hands  all  bruised  and 

torn; 
And  her  sweet  young  face  still  haggard,  with  the  anguish  it  had 

worn, 
Touched  his  heart  with  sudden  pity,  lit  his  eyes  with  misty 

light, 
"  Go  !  your  lover  lives,"  cried  Cromwell,  "  Curfew  shall  not  ring 

to-night." 

Wide  they  flung  the  massive  portals,  led  the  prisoner  forth  to 

die, 
All  his  bright  young  life   before   him,   'neath   the   darkening 

English  sky. 
Bessie  came,  with  flying  footsteps,  eyes  aglow  with  lovelight 

sweet, 

Kneeling  on  the  turf  beside  him,  laid  his  pardon  at  his  feet. 
In  his  brave  strong  arms  he  clasped  her,  kissed  the  face  upturned 

and  white, 
Whispered,  "Darling,  you  have  saved  me,  Curfew  will  not  ring 

to-night." 


THE  GUEST. 


BY  HARRIET  McEwAN  KIMBALL. 


Miss  Kimball  is  best  known  as  a  writer  of  devotional  verse,  her  first  pub- 
lished work  being  a  book  of  hymns.  She  has  the  true  inspirational  quality 
which  distinguishes  the  poet,  and  her  poems  are  much  admired  by  thought- 
ful and  intellectual  readers.  She  is  a  native  of  this  country,  and  was  born 
in  New  Hampshire  in  1834. 


360  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

SPEECHLESS  sorrow  sat  with  me, 
I  was  sighing  heavily; 
Lamp  and  fire  were  out;  the  rain 
Wildly  beat  the  window-pane. 
In  the  dark  we  heard  a  knock, 
And  a  hand  was  on  the  lock, 
One  in  waiting  spake  to  me, 

Saying  sweetly, 
"I  am  come  to  sup  with  thee." 

All  my  room  was  dark  and  damp; 
"Sorrow"  said  I,  "trim  the  lamp; 

Light  the  fire  and  cheer  thy  face; 

Set  the  guest-chair  in  its  place." 

And  again  I  heard  the  knock; 

In  the  dark  I  found  the  lock; 
"Enter!  I  have  turned  the  key, 
Enter  stranger, 

Who  art  come  to  sup  with  me." 

Opening  wide  the  door  he  came; 
But  I  could  not  speak  his  name; 
In  the  guest-chair  took  his  place; 
But  I  could  not  see  his  face, — 
When  my  cheerful  fire  was  beaming,, 
When  my  little  lamp  was  gleaming, 
And  the  feast  was  spread  for  three — 

Lo,  my  Master 
Was  the  Guest  that  supped  with  me! 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  361 

THE  VOICE  OF  THE  POOR 


BY  LADX  WILDE  (SPKBANZA). 


Lady  "Wilde,  at  present  a  resident  of  London,  England,  was  born  in  Ire- 
land about  the  year  1830.  She  is  the  mother  of  Oscar  "Wilde,  who  has 
achieved  almost  a  world-wide  celebrity  as  the  apostle  of  beauty.  Many 
years  ago  Lady  Wilde  contributed  to  the  Dublin  Nation  poems  which 
attracted  attention,  over  the  name  of  "  Speranza,"  which  poems  have  since 
been  issued  in  book  form.  She  is  in  sympathy  with  all  political  move- 
ments which  are  for  the  good  of  her  native  country,  and  is  impulsive  and 
patriotic. 

"\  \   TAS  ever  sorrow  like  to  our  sorrow, 
VV       O,  God  above? 
Will  our  night  never  change  into  a  morrow 

Of  joy  and  love  ? 
A  deadly  gloom  is  on  us  waking,  sleeping, 

Like  the  darkness  at  noontide 
That  fell  upon  the  pallid  mother  weeping 

By  the  Crucified. 

Before  us  die  our  brothers  of  starvation, 

Around  are  cries  of  famine  and  despair; 
Where  is  hope  for  us,  or  comfort,  or  salvation — 

Where — oh  where? 
If  the  angels  ever  hearken  downward  bending, 

They  are  weeping,  we  are  sure, 
At  the  litanies  of  human  groans  ascending 

From  the  crushed  hearts  of  the  poor. 

When  the  human  Yests  in  love  upon  the  human, 

All  grief  is  light; 
But  who  lends  one  kind  glance  to  illumine 

Our  life-long  night  ? 


362  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

The  air  around  is  ringing  with,  their  laughter — 

God  only  made  the  rich  to  smile; 
But  we  in  our  rags  and  want  and  woe — we  follow  after, 

Weeping  the  while. 

And  the  laughter  seems  but  uttered  to  deride  us, 

When,  oh,  when 
Will  fall  the  frozen  barriers  that  divide  us 

From  other  men  ? 
Will  ignorance  forever  thus  enslave  us  ? 

Will  misery  forever  lay  us  low  ? 
All  are  eager  with  their  insults;  but  to  save  us 

None,  none  we  know. 

We  never  knew  a  childhood's  mirth  and  gladness, 

Nor  the  proud  heart  of  youth  free  and  brave; 
Oh,  a  death-like  dream  of  wretchedness  and  sadness, 

Is  life's  weary  journey  to  the  grave. 
Day  by  day  we  lower  sink,  and  lower, 

Till  the  God-like  soul  within 
Falls  crushed  beneath  the  fearful  demon  power 

Of  poverty  and  sin. 

So  we  toil  on,  on  with  fever  burning 

In  heart  and  brain; 
So  we  toil  on,  on  through  bitter  scorning, 

Want,  woe  and  pain. 
We  dare  not  raise  our  eyes  to  the  blue  heaven, 

Or  the  toil  must  cease — 
We  dare  not  breathe  the  fresh  air  God  has  given 

One  hour  in  peace. 

We  must  toil,  though  the  light  of  life  is  burning 
Oh,  how  dim; 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  363 

We  must  toil  on  our  sick-bed,  feebly  turning 

Our  eyes  to  Him 
Who  alone  can  hear  the  pale  lips  faintly  saying, 

With  scarce  moved  breath, 
While  the  pale  hands,  uplifted,  aid  the  praying: 
"  Lord,  grant  us  death!" 


THE  BETTER  LAND. 


BY  MRS.  FELICIA  D.  HEMANS. 


Mrs.  Hemans  was  born  in  Liverpool,  England,  in  1793,  and  died  in  1835. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Felicia  Dorothea  Browne.  She  married  Captain 
Hemans  in  1812,  but  it  was  an  unhappy  marriage,  and  in  the  latter  part  of 
her  life  they  separated,  and  she  devoted  her  time  to  the  education  of  her  five 
sons,  and  her  poetical  work.  The  tenderness  and  pathos  of  her  poems, 
give  them  a  charm  that  their  mere  intellectual  merit  would  not  have 
achieved,  and  they  will  always  be  popular  in  the  household. 

I    HEAR  thee  speak  of  the  better  land, 
Thou  call'st  its  children  a  happy  band; 
Mother!  Oh,  where  is  that  radiant  shore  ? 
Shall  we  not  seek  it  and  weep  no  more  ? 
Is  it  where  the  flower  of  the  orange  blows, 
And  the  fire-flies  glance  through  the  myrtle  boughs  ?  * 
Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  !  " 

"  Is  it  where  the  feathery  palm  trees  rise, 
And  the  date  grows  ripe  under  sunny  skies  ? 
Or,  midst  the  green  islands  of  glittering  seas, 
Where  fragrant  forests  perfume  the  breeze, 
And  strange  bright  birds  on  their  starry  wings 
Bear  the  rich  hues  of  all  glorious  things  ? 
Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  ! 


364  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

Is  it  far  away  in  some  region  old, 
Where  the  rivers  wander  o'er  sands  of  gold, 
Where  the  burning  rays  of  the  ruby  shine, 
And  the  diamond  lights  up  the  secret  mine, 
And  the  pearl  gleams  forth  from  the  coral  strand  ? 
Is  it  there,  sweet  mother,  that  better  land  ? 
"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  !" 

Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  my  gentle  boy, 
Ear  hath  not  heard  its  deep  sounds  of  joy; 
Dreams  cannot  picture  a  world  so  fair — 
Sorrow  and  death  may  not  enter  there; 
Time  doth  not  breathe  on  its  fadeless  bloom 
Far  beyond  the  clouds  and  beyond  the  tomb. 
"  It  is  there,  it  is  there,  my  child  !  " 


GONE  IS  GONE,  AND  DEAD  IS  DEAD. 


BY  Miss  LIZZIE  DOTKN. 


Miss  Lizzie  Doten  was  born  in  Plymouth,  Massachusetts,  about  "the  year 
1820.  She  is  what  is  known  as  an  inspirational  writer,  and  has  published 
two  volumes  of  poems  which  have  attracted  much  attention  in  England,  as 
well  as  here.  Her  poetry  is  the  rapid  verse  of  the  improvisator,  produced 
without  any  intellectual  purpose  or  mental  labor,  but  with  certain  peculiar 
qualities  of  strength  and  plaintiveness. 

"  On  the  returning  to  the  inn,  he  found  there  a  wandering  minstrel — a 
woman — singing,  and  accompanying  her  voice  with  the  music  of  a  harp. 
The  burden  of  the  song  was,  "Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." — Jean 
Paul  Mtchter. 


"G 


ONE  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead;" 
Words  to  hopeless  sorrow  wedj 
Words  from  deepest  sorrow  wrung, 
Which  a  lonely  wanderer  sung, 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  365 


While  her  harp  prolonged  the  strain, 
Like  a  spirit's  cry  of  pain 
When  all  hope  with  life  is  fled. 
"  Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." 

Mournful  singer  !  hearts  unknown 
Thrill  responsive  to  that  tone, 
By  a  common  weal  and  woe 
Kindred  sorrows  all  must  know. 
Lips  all  tremulous  with  pain 
Oft  repeat  that  sad  refrain 
When  the  fatal  shaft  is  sped. 
"  Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." 

Pain  and  death  are  everywhere; 
In  the  earth,  and  sea,  and  air, 
And  the  sunshine's  golden  glance, 
And  the  Heaven's  serene  expanse. 
With  a  silence  calm  and  high, 
Seem  to  mock  that  mournful  cry 
Wrung  from  hearts  by  hope  unfed, 
"  Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." 

As  the  stars  which  one  by  one, 
Lighted  at  the  central  sun, 
Swept  across  ethereal  space 
Each  to  its  predestined  place, 
So  the  soul's  Promethean  fire 
Kindled  never  to  expire, 
On  its  course  immortal  sped, 
Is  not  gone  and  is  not  dead  ! 

By  a  Power  to  thought  unknown, 
Love  shall  ever  seek  its  own, 


366  WHAT  CAN"  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Sundered  not  by  time  or  space, 
With  no  distant  dwelling-place, 
Soul  shall  answer  unto  soul 
As  the  needle  to  the  pole; 
Leaving  grief's  lament  unsaid. 
"  Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." 

Evermore  Love's  quickening  breath 
Calls  the  living  soul  from  death, 
And  the  resurrection's  power 
Comes  to  every  dying  hour, 
When  the  soul,  with  vision  clear, 
Learns  that  Heaven  is  always  near, 
Nevermore  shall  it  be  said 
"  Gone  is  gone,  and  dead  is  dead." 


THE   TWO    MYSTERIES. 


BY  MAET  MAPBS  DODGE. 

Mary  Mapes  Dodge  is  the  editor  of  the  St.  Nicholas  Magazine,  and  th« 
writer  of  numerous  pleasing  poems,  and  various  successful  works  for  the 
young.  Mrs.  Dodge  is  a  daughter  of  the  late  Professor  Mapes,  and  resides 
with  her  family  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

"  In  the  middle  of  the  room  in  its  white  coffin  lay  the  dead  child,  the 
nephew  of  the  poet.  Near  it,  in  a  great  chair,  sat  Walt  Whitman,  sur- 
rounded by  little  ones,  and  holding  a  beautiful  little  girl  on  his  lap.  She 
looked  wonderingly  at  the  spectacle  of  death,  and  then  enquiringly  into  the 
old  man's  face.  "You  don't  know  what  it  is,  do  you,  my  dear?  "  said  he, 
and  added  "  we  don't  either." 


W 


E  know  not  what  it  is,  dear,  this  sleep  so  deep  and  still; 
The  folded  hands,  the  awful  calm,  the  cheek  so  pale 
and  chill, 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  367 

The  lids  that  will  not  lift  again,  though  we  may  call  and  call; 
The  strange  white  solitude  of  peace  that  settles  over  all. 

We  know  not  what  it  means,  dear,  this  desolate  heart-pain, 
This  dread  to  take  our  daily  way  and  walk  in  it  again; 
We  know  not  to  what  other  sphere  the  loved  who  leave  us  go, 
Nor  why  we're  left  to  wonder  still,  nor  why  we  do  not  know. 

But  this  we  know,  our  loved  and  dead,  if  they  should  come  this 

day, 

Should  come  and  ask  us,  what  is  life  ?  not  one  of  us  could  say. 
Life  is  a  mystery,  as  deep  as  ever  death  can  be; 
Yet,  oh,  how  dear  it  is  to  us,  this  life  we  live  and  see! 

Then  might  they  say — those  vanished  ones, — and  blessed  is  the 

thought, 
"  So  death  is  sweet  to  us,  beloved  !  though  we  may  show  you 

nought; 

We  may  not  to  the  quick  reveal  the  mystery  of  death — 
Ye  cannot  tell  us  if  ye  would  the  mystery  of  breath." 

The  child  who  enters  life  comes  not  with  knowledge  or  intent, 
So  those  who  enter  death  must  go  as  little  children  went. 
Nothing  is  known.     But  I  believe  that  God  is  overhead, 
And  as  life  is  to  the  living,  so  death  is  to  the  dead. 


HEARTBREAK  HILL. 


BY  CKLIA  THAXTER. 

Mrs.  Thaxter  is  an  American  writer,  a  native  of  the  Isle  of  Shoals,  where 
she  lives  in  a  pleasant  home  surrounded  by  the  beauty  of  nature,  and  rich 
in  historic  lore.  She  has  published  several  volumes  of  poetry  and  proee, 
and  is  a  popular  contributor  to  the  leading  magazines. 


368  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

IN  Ipswich  town,  not  far  from  sea, 
Rises  a  hill  which  the  people  call 
Heartbreak  Hill,  and  its  history 
Is  an  old,  old  legend,  known  to  all. 

The  selfsame  dreary,  worn-out  tale 

Told  by  all  people  in  every  clime, 
Still  to  be  told  till  the  ages  fail, 

And  there  comes  a  pause  in  the  march  of  time. 

It  was  a  sailor  who  won  the  heart 

Of  an  Indian  maiden,  lithe  and  young; 

And  she  saw  him  over  the  sea  depart, 

While  sweet  in  her  ear  the  promise  rung; 

For  he  cried  as  he  kissed  her  wet  eyes  dry, 
"I'll  come  back,  sweetheart,  keep  your  faith!" 

She  said,  "  I  will  watch  while  the  moons  go  by." — 
Her  love  was  stronger  than  life  or  death. 

So  this  poor  dusk  Ariadne  kept 

Her  watch  from  the  hill-top  rugged  and  steep: 
Slowly  the  empty  moments  crept 

While  she  studied  the  changing  face  of  the  deep, 

Fastening  her  eyes  upon  every  speck 

That  crossed  the  ocean  within  her  ken: — 

Might  not  her  lover  be  walking  the  deck, 
Surely  and  swiftly  returning  again? 

The  Isles  of  Sboals  loomed,  lonely  and  dim, 
In  the  northeast  distance  far  and  gray, 

And  on  the  horizon's  uttermost  rim 
The  low  rock-heap  of  Boon  Island  lay. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  369 

And  north  and  south  and  west  and  east 

Stretched  sea  and  land  in  the  blinding  light, 
Till  evening  fell,  and  her  vigil  ceased, 

And  many  a  hearth-glow  lit  the  night, 

To  mock  those  set  and  glittering  eyes 

Fast  growing  wild  as  her  hope  went  out; 
Hateful  seemed  earth,  and  the  hollow  skies, 

Like  n«r  own  heart,  empty  of  aught  but  doubt. 

i 
Oh,  but  the  weary,  merciless  days, 

With  the  sun  above,  with  the  sea  afar, — 
No  change  in  her  fixed  and  wistful  gaze 

From  the  morning  red  to  the  evening  star  ! 

Oh,  the  winds  that  blew,  and  the  birds  that  sang, 
The  calms  that  smiled,  and  the  storms  that  rolled^ 

The  bells  from  the  town  beneath,  that  rang 
Through  the  summer's  heat  and  the  winter's,  cold! 

The  flash  of  the  plunging  surges  white, 

The  soaring  gull's  wild,  boding  cry, — 
She  was  weary  of  all;  there  was  no  delight 

In  heaven  or  earth,  and  she  longed  to  die. 

What  was  it  to  her  though  the  dawn  should  paint 

With  delicate  beauty  skies  and  seas  ? 
But  the  swift,  sad  sunset  splendors  faint 

Made  her  soul  sick  with  memories, 

Drowning  in  sorrowful  purple  a  sail 

In  the  distant  east,  where  shadows  grew, 
Till  the  twilight  shrouded  it  cold  and  pale, 

And  the  tide  of  her  anguish  rose  anew. 

84 


370  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

Like  a  slender  statue  carved  of  stone 
She  sat,  with  hardly  motion  or  breath, 

She  wept  no  tears  and  she  made  no  moan, 
But  her  love  was  stronger  than  life  or  death. 

He  never  came  back  !     Yet  faithful  still, 
She  watched  from  the  hill-top  her  life  away: 

And  the  townsfolk  christened  it  Heartbreak  Hill, 
And  it  bears  the  name  to  this  very  day. 


THE  HIGH  TIDE  ON  THE  COAST  OF  LINCOLNSHIRE,  1571. 


BY  JEAN  INGELOW. 


Miss  Ingelow  is  an  English  poet,  born  at  Ipswich,  and  is  now  about  fifty 
years  old.  She  has  written  some  interesting  literature  for  children,  one  or 
two  novels,  and  a  volume  of  poems.  The  one  given  here  is  the  most  popu- 
lar of  all  her  writings.  It  is  much  admired  as  a  recitation. 

THE  old  mayor  climbed  the  belfry  tower, 
The  ringers  rang  by  two,  by  three; 
"Pull,  if  ye  never  pulled  before; 

Good  ringers,  pull  your  best,"  quoth  he, 
"  Play  uppe,  play  uppe,  O  Boston  Bells ! 
Play  all  your  changes,  all  your  swells, 
Play  uppe,  the  Brides  of  Enderby." 

Men  say  it  was  a  stolen  tyde — 

The  Lord  that  sent  it,  He  knows  all; 
But  in  mine  ears  doth  still  abide 

The  message  that  the  bells  let  fall; 
And  there  was  naught  of  strange  beside 
The  flight  of  mews  and  peewits  pied 

By  millions  crouched  on  the  old  sea-wall. 


I 
WOMEN   AS   POETS.  371 

I  sat  and  spun  within  the  doore, 

My  thread  brake  off,  I  raised  my  eyes, 
The  level  rim,  like  ruddy  ore 

Lay  sinking  in  the  barren  skies; 
And  dark  against  day's  golden  death 
She  moved  where  Lindis  wandereth, — 
My  sonne's  faire  wife,  Elizabeth. 

"Cusha!  cusha!  cusha!  "  calling, 

For  the  dews  will  soon  be  falling. 

Farre  away  I  heard  her  song, 
"  Cusha!  cusha!  "  all  along 

Where  the  reedy  Lindis  floweth, 
Floweth,  floweth, 

From  the  meads  where  melick  groweth, 

Faintly  came  her  milking  song — 

"Cusha!  cusha!  cusha!"  calling, 
For  the  dews  will  soon  be  falling; 
Leave  your  meadow-grasses  mellow, 

Mellow,  mellow; 

Quit  your  cowslips,  cowslips  yellow; 
Come  uppe  Whitefoot,  come  uppe  Lightfoot, 
Quit  the  stalk  of  parsley  hollow, 

Hollow,  hollow; 

Come  uppe  Jetty,  rise  and  follow! 
From  the  clovers  lift  your  head; 
Come  uppe  Whitefoot,  come  uppe  Lightfoot, 
Come  uppe  Jetty,  rise  and  follow 
Jetty  to  the  milking  shed." 

If  it  be  long — ay,  long  ago, 

When  I  beginne  to  think  ho  we  long 


372  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Againe  I  hear  the  Lindis  flow 

Swift  as  an  arrow,  sharp  and  strong; 
And  all  the  aire  it  seemeth  mee 
Bin  full  of  floating  bells  (sayth  shee), 
That  ring  the  tune  of  Enderby. 

Alle  fresh  the  level  pasture  lay, 
And  not  a  shadow  mote  be  seene 

Save  where,  full  fyve  good  miles  away, 
The  steeple  towered  from  out  the  greene, 

And  lo!  the  great  bell  far  and  wide 

Was  heard  in  all  the  country-side 

That  Saturday  at  eventide. 

The  swanherds,  where  their  sedges  are, 
Moved  on  in  sunset's  golden  breath; 
The  shepherde  lads  I  heard  afarre, 
And  my  sonne's  wife,  Elizabeth; 
Till  floating  o'er  the  grassy  sea 
Came  downe  that  kyndly  message  free 
The  "  Brides  of  Mavis  Enderby." 

Then  some  looked  up  into  the  sky, 
And  all  along  where  Lindis  flows 

To  where  the  goodly  vessels  lie 

And  where  the  lordly  steeple  shows; 

They  sayde,  "  And  why  should  this  thing  be  ? 

What  danger  lowers  by  land  or  sea  ? 

They  ring  the  tune  of  Enderby! " 

For  evil  news  from  Mablethorpe, 
Of  pyrate  galleys  warping  downe — 

For  shippes  ashore  beyond  the  scorpe, 

They  have  not  spared  to  wake  the  towne; 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  373 

But  while  the  west  bin  red  to  see, 
And  storms  be  none  and  pyrates  flee, 
Why  ring  "  The  Brides  of  Enderby  ?  " 

I  looked  without,  and  lo!  my  sonne 

Came  riding  down  with  might  and  mainj 

He  raised  a  shout  as  he  drew  on, 
Till  all  the  welkin  rang  again: 
"Elizabeth!  Elizabeth! 

(A  sweeter  woman  ne'er  drew  breath 

Than  my  son's  wife,  Elizabeth.) 

"  The  old  sea-wall  (he  cryed)  is  downe, 

The  rising  tide  comes  on  apace, 
And  boats  adrift  in  yonder  towne 

Go  sailing  uppe  the  market-place." 
He  shook  as  one  that  looks  on  death, 
"  God  save  you,  mother,"  straight  he  sayeth, 
"  Where  is  my  wife,  Elizabeth  ?  " 

"  Good  sonne,  where  Lindis  winds  away, 

With  her  two  bairns  I  marked  her  long, 
And  ere  yon  bells  began  to  play 

Afar  I  heard  her  milking-song." 
He  looked  across  the  grassy  lea, 
To  right,  to  left,  "  Ho  Enderby!" 
They  rang  "  The  Brides  of  Enderby!'* 

With  that  he  cried  and  beat  his  breast, 

For  lo!  along  the  river's  bed 
A  mighty  eygre  reared  his  crest, 

And  uppe  the  Lindis  raging  sped; 
It  swept  with  thunderous  noises  loud, 
Shaped  like  a  curling  snow-white  cloud» 
Or  like  a  demon  in  a  shroud. 


374  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

And  rearing  Lindis  backward  pressed, 

Shook  all  her  trembling  banks  amaine, 
Then  madly  at  the  eygre's  breast 

Flung  uppe  her  weltering  walls  again; 
Then  bank  came  downe  with  ruin  and  rout, 
Then  beaten  foam  flew  round  about, 
Then  all  the  mighty  floods  were  out. 

So  f arre,  so  fast  the  eygre  drave 
The  heart  had  hardly  time  to  beat 

Before  a  shallow  seething  wave 
Sobbed  in  the  grasses  at  our  feet; 

The  feet  had  hardly  time  to  flee 

Before  it  brake  against  the  knee, 

And  all  the  world  was  in  the  sea. 

Upon  the  roofe  we  sat  that  night; 

The  noise  of  bells  went  sweeping  by; 
I  marked  the  lofty  beacon  light 

Stream  from  the  church  tower,  red  and  high, 
A  lurid  mark  and  dread  to  see; 
And  awesome  bells  they  were  to  me 
That  in  the  dark  rung  "  Enderby!" 

They  rang  the  sailor  lads  to  guide 

From  roofe  to  roofe,  who  fearless  roved, 
And  I — my  sonne  was  at  my  side — 
And  yet  the  ruddy  billow  glowed; 
And  yet  he  moaned  beneath  his  breath, 
"  Oh,  come  in  life,  or  come  in  death, 
Oh,  lost!  my  love,  Elizabeth!  " 

And  didst  thou  visit  him  no  more  ? 

Thou  didst,  thou  didst,  my  daughter  dear; 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  375 

The  waters  laid  thee  at  his  doore 

Ere  yet  the  early  dawn  was  clear; 
Thy  pretty  bairns  in  fast  embrace 
The  lifted  sun  shone  on  thy  face, 
Downe  drifted  to  thy  dwelling-place. 

That  flow  strewed  wrecks  about  the  grass, 

That  ebb  swept  out  the  flocks  to  sea; 
A  fatal  ebbe  and  flow,  alas! 

To  manye,  more  than  myne  and  mee; 
But  each  will  mourn  her  own  (she  sayth), 
And  sweeter  woman  ne'er  drew  breath, 
Than  my  sonne's  wife,  Elizabeth. 


THE    SLEEP. 

["  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep."— Psalms  crxvii,  2.] 


BY  ELIZAETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 


Elizabeth  Barrett  was  bora  in  London,  in  1806,  married  to  Robert 
Browning,  the  poet,  in  1846,  and  died  at  Florence,  Italy,  in  1851.  Her 
poems  are  characterized  by  a  high  intellectual  attainment,  and  a  great 
interest  in  the  political  events  of  the  day.  She  was  deeply  religious, 
and  of  exquisite  delicacy  of  imagination.  "  The  Sleep "  is  one  of  her 
finest  religious  poems,  and  has  been  extensively  published.  She  takes  a 
position,  independent  of  sex,  among  the  foremost  writers  of  the  century. 


OF 

WB 


all  the  thoughts  of  God  that  are 
Borne  inward  unto  souls  afar, 

Along  the  psalmists'  music  deep, 
Now  tell  me  if  there  any  is 
For  gift  or  grace  surpassing  this  ? 

"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep  I  n 


376  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN   DO. 

What  would  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
The  hero's  heart  to  be  unmoved, 

The  poet's  star-tuned  harp  to  sweep, 
The  patriot's  voice  to  teach  and  rouse, 
The  monarch's  crown  to  light  the  brows; 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep!" 

What  do  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
A  little  faith  all  undisproved, 

A  little  dust  to  over  weep, 
And  bitter  memories  to  make 
The  whole  earth  blasted  for  our  sake  ; 
i"He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep! " 

"  Sleep  soft,  beloved  ! "  we  sometimes  say, 
But  have  no  tune  to  charm  away 

Sad  dreams  that  through  the  eyelids  creep. 
But  never  doleful  dream  again 
Shall  break  the  happy  slumber,  when 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep  !  " 

O,  earth  !  so  full  of  dreary  noises  ; 
O,  men,  with  wailing  in  your  voices  ; 

O,  delv'ed  gold,  the  wailers  heap; 
O,  strife  !  O,  curse  that  o'er  it  fall! 
God  makes  a  silence  through  it  all, 

And  "  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

His  dews  drop  mutely  on  the  hill; 
His  cloud  above  it  saileth  still, 

Though  on  its  slope  men  sow  and  reap. 
More  softly  than  the  dew  is  shed, 
Or  cloud  is  floated  overhead  ; 

"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep  !  " 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  377 

Tea  !  men  may  wonder  while  they  scan 
A  living,  thinking,  feeling  man, 

Confirm'd  in  such  a  rest  to  keep. 
But  angels  say — and  through  the  Word 
I  think  their  happy  smile  is  heard, 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep  ! " 

For  me,  my  heart  that  erst  did  go 
Most  like  a  tired  child  at  a  show, 

That  tries  through  tears  the  juggler's  leap- 
Would  now  its  wearied  vision  close; 
Would  childlike  on  His  love  repose 

Who  "  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

And  friends,  dear  friends — when  it  shall  be 
That  this  low  breath  has  gone  from  me, 

And  'round  my  bier  ye  come  to  weepj 
Let  one  most  loving  of  you  all, 
Say,  "  Not  a  tear  must  o'er  her  fall, 
*  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep  !' " 


ONLY  WAITING. 


BY  FRANCES  LAUOHTON  MACE. 


Frances  Laughton  (Mace)  is  a  name  almost  wholly  unknown  to  fame, 
although  one  of  the  tenderest  poems  in  the  English  language  originated 
from  her  pen;  one,  too,  that  has  had  a  world-wide  circulation  in  the  annals  of 
literature.  This  little  poem,  "  Only  Waiting,"  is  constantly  published  and 
credited  as  anonymous.  It  was  written  by  Miss  Laughton  when  she  was 
but  eighteen  years  old,  and  first  saw  the  light  in  the  Waterville  (Me.)  Mail 
of  September  7th,  1854.  It  has  been  used  with  great  success  as  a  hymn. 
Mrs.  Mace  is  still  living  in  Maine. 


378  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

Some  visitors  at  an  almshouse  noticed  a  very  old  man  sitting  in  the  door- 
way. When  they  asked  him  what  he  was  doing  there,  he  answered,  "  Only 
Waiting. " 


"O 


N"LY  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown, 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown; 
Till  the  night  of  earth  is  faded 

From  this  heart  once  full  of  day, 
Till  the  dawn  of  Heaven  is  breaking 

Through  the  twilight,  soft  and  gray. 

"  Only  waiting  till  the  reapers 

Have  the  last  sheaf  gathered  home, 
For  the  Summer-time  hath  faded 

And  the  autumn  winds  are  come; 
Quickly  reapers!  gather  quickly 

The  last  ripe  hours  of  my  heart,  1* 

For  the  bloom  of  life  is  withered 

And  I  hasten  to  depart. 

"  Only  waiting  till  the  angels 

Open  wide  the  mystic  gate, 
At  whose  feet  I  long  have  lingered, 

Weary,  poor  and  desolate. 
Even  now  I  hear  their  footsteps 

And  their  roices  far  away — 
If  they  call  me,  I  am  waiting, 

Only  waiting  to  obey. 

"  Only  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown, 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 
Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown; 


"ONLY  WAITING    TILL  THE  SHADOWS  ARE  A  LITTLE  LONGER  GROWN." 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  379 

When  from  out  the  folded  darkness, 

Holy,  deathless  stars  shall  rise, 
By  whose  light  my  soul  shall  gladly 

Wing  her  passage  to  the  skies." 


LIFE. 


BY  CHARLOTTE  BRONT£. 


Charlotte  Bronte1  is  best  known  to  the  world  as  the  author  of  the  popular 
novel,  Jane  Eyre.  She  was  born  in  1816,  and  died  in  1855.  Her  famous 
story  was  published  in  1847.  She  was  one  of  three  remarkable  and  gifted 
sisters,  daughters  of  the  Rev.  Patrick  Bronte,  who  lived  at  Haworth,  in 
Yorkshire,  England.  The  Rev.  Robert  Collyer  was  a  neighbor  of  Char- 
lotte, and  can  remember  her  as  a  slim,  pale  girl,  when  he  worked  at  the 
forge.  She  married  a  Mr.  Nicholls,  her  father's  curate,  and  died  after  one 
year  of  happiness. 


L 


IFE,  believe,  is  not  a  dream 

So  dark  as  sages  say; 
Oft  a  little  morning's  rain 
Foretells  a  pleasant  day; 
Sometimes  there  are  clouds  of  gloom, 

But  these  are  transient  all; 
If  the  shower  will  make  the  roses  bloom, 
Oh  !  why  lament  its  fall  ? 
Rapidly,  merrily, 

Life's  sunny  hours  flit  by; 
Gratefully,  cheerfully, 
Enjoy  them  as  they  fly. 

What  though  death  at  times  steps  in 
And  calls  our  last  away  ? 


380  WHAT   CAN"  A  WOMAN   DO. 

What  though  sorrow  seems  to  win 

O'er  hope  a  heavy  sway  ? 
Yet  hope  again  elastic  springs 
Unconquered  though  she  fell. 
Still  buoyant  are  her  golden  wings, 
Still  strong  to  bear  us  well. 
Manfully,  fearlessly 

The  day  of  trial  bear, 
For  gloriously,  victoriously, 
Can  courage  quail  despair. 


PRAYER  OP  MARY  STUART,  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS. 

This  beautiful,  accomplished  and  most  unfortunate  queen  was  beheaded 
at  Fothingay,  February  8,  1587,  at  the  command  of  her  cousin,  Queen 
Elizabeth,  who  feared  her  power,  and  accused  her  of  complicity  in  a  plot 
against  her  life.  Mary  died  like  a  queen,  inspiring  her  enemies  with  a  fer- 
vent admiration  of  her  beauty  and  heroic  powers  of  endurance.  We  give  a 
translation  from  the  original  Latin,  in  which  the  Queen  wrote  it  in  her  book 
Of  devotions  shortly  before  she  was  executed. 


"O 


DOMINE  Deus!  speraviin  te; 
O  care  mi  Jesu!  nunc  libera  me 
In  dura  catena,  in  misera  pcena, 

Desidero  te; 

Languendo,  gemendo,  et  genuflectendo, 
Adoro,  imploro,  ut  liberes  me." 

[TRANSLATION.] 

O,  Master  and  Maker!  my  hope  is  in  thee; 
My  Jesus,  dear  Saviour!  now  set  my  soul  free 
From  this  my  hard  prison,  my  spirit  uprisen 

Soars  upward  to  thee. 

Thus  moaning,  and  groaning,  and  bending  the  knee, 
I  adore  and  implore  that  thou  liberate  me. 


WOMEN   AS   POETS.  881 

THE  GRAY  SWAN. 


BY  ALICE  CART. 


The  Carey  sisters  are  as  inseparable  in  literature  as  they  were  In  their 
lives.  Alice  was  born  in  1820,  and  died  in  1871.  Phoebe  was  born  in  1824, 
and  died  in  1871.  They  were  born  on  a  farm  eight  miles  from  Cincinnati, 
Ohio,  and  died  in  New  York  City,  in  the  same  year.  They  wrote  verses 
from  childhood,  and  their  poems  are  published  together  in  one  volume. 
They  were  the  center  of  a  refined  literary  circle  in  New  York  when  they 
died.  Horace  Greeley  was  a  frequent  and  welcome  visitor  at  their  home. 


"O 


TELL  me,  sailor,  tell  me  true, 
Is  my  little  lad,  my  Elihu, 

A-sailing  with  your  ship?" 
The  sailor's  eyes  were  dim  with  dew, 
"Your  little  lad,  your  Elihu?" 

He  said  with  trembling  lip, — 
"  What  little  lad?    what  ship?  " 

"What  little  lad!    as  if  there  could  be 
Another  such  a  one  as  he! 

What  little  lad,  do  you  say?  * 

Why,  Elihu,  that  took  to  the  sea 
The  moment  I  put  him  off  my  knee! 

It  was  just  the  other  day 

The  Gray  Swan  sailed  away." 

"  The  other  day?  "    the  sailor's  eyes 
Stood  open  with  a  great  surprise, — 
"  The  other  day?  the  Swan?" 
His  heart  began  in  his  throat  to  rise. 
"  Ay,  ay,  sir,  here  in  the  cupboard  lies 

The  jacket  he  had  on." 
"  And  so  your  lad  is  gone  ?  " 


882  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN   DO. 

" Gone  with  the  Swan"    "And  did  she  stand 
With  her  anchor  clutching  hold  of  the  sand, 

For  a  month,  and  never  stir?  " 
"  Why,  to  be  sure!    I've  seen  from  the  land, 
Like  a  lover  kissing  his  lady's  hand, 
The  wild  sea  kissing  her, — 
A  sight  to  remember,  sir." 

"  But,  my  good  mother,  do  you  know 
All  this  was  twenty  years  ago? 

I  stood  on  the  Gray  Swan's  deck, 
And  to  that  lad  I  saw  you  throw, 
Taking  it  off,  as  it  might  be,  so, 

The  kerchief  from  your  neck." 
"  Ay,  and  he'll  bring  it  back!" 

"  And  did  the  little  lawless  lad 
That  has  made  you  sick  and  made  you  sad, 

Sail  with  the  Gray  Swan's  crew?" 
"Lawless!  the  man  is  going  mad! 
The  best  boy  ever  mother  had, — 
Be  sure  he  sailed  with  the  crew! 
What  would  you  have  him  do?" 

"And  he  has  never  written  line, 
Nor  sent  you  word,  nor  made  you  sign 

To  say  he  was  alive?" 
"Hold!  if  'twas  wrong,  the  wrong  is  mine; 
Besides,  he  may  be  in  the  brine, 

And  could  he  write  from  the  grave? 
Tut,  man,  what  would  you  have?" 

"  Gone  twenty  years — a  long,  long  cruise, 
Twas  wicked  thus  your  love  to  abuse 
But  if  the  lad  still  live, 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  383 

And  come  back  home,  think  you  you  can 
Forgive  him?" — "  Miserable  man, 

You're  mad  as  the  sea — you  rave,— 

What  have  I  to  forgive?" 

The  sailor  twitched  his  shirt  so  blue, 
And  from  within  his  bosom  drew 

The  kerchief.     She  was  wild. 
"My  God!  my  Father!  is  it  true 
My  little  lad,  my  Elihu? 

My  blessed  boy,  my  child! 

My  dead, — my  living  child  1" 

HAPPY  WOMEN. 

BY  PHCEBE  CART. 


IMPATIENT  women,  as  you  wait 
In  cheerful  homes  to-night,  to  hear 
The  sound  of  steps  that  soon  or  late 
Shall  come  as  music  to  your  ear; 

Forget  yourselves  a  little  while, 
And  think  in  pity,  of  the  pain 
Of  women  who  will  never  smile 
To  hear  a  coming  step  again. 

With  babes  that  in  their  cradles  sleep, 
Or  cling  to  you  in  perfect  trust, 
Think  of  the  mothers  left  to  weep 
Their  babies  lying  in  the  dust. 

And  when  the  step  you  wait  for  comes, 
And  all  your  world  is  full  of  light; 
O,  women!  safe  in  happy  homes, 
Pray  for  all  lonesome  souls  to-night! 


I 

I 
384  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

"LIFE!  I  KNOW  NOT  WHAT  THOU  ART." 

BY  MRS.  L.  A.  BARBAULD. 

Mrs.  Letitia  Aikin  Barbauld  was  born  in  1743.  and  died  in  1825.  She 
was  a  native  of  Tibworth,  Leicestershire,  and  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman 
who  was  principal  of  an  Academy  for  the  education  of  boys.  Mrs.  Bar- 
bauld was  the  favorite  poetess  of  the  English  youth  of  half  a  century  ago. 
The  little  poem  we  publish  here  is  an  abbreviation  of  a  longer  poem,  which 
is  a  favorite  in  its  present  condensed  form, 

LIFE!  I  know  not  what  thou  art, 
But  know  that  thou  and  I  must  partj 
And  when,  or  how,  or  where  we  met 
I  own  to  me's  a  secret  yet. 

Life!  we've  been  long  together 

Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather; 

'Tis  hard  perhaps  to  part  when  friends  are  dear,— 

Perhaps  t'will  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear; 

Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 

Choose  thine  own  time; 

Say  not  Good  Night, — but  in  some  brighter  clime 

Bid  me  Good  Morning. 


ROBIN  ADAIR 


BY  LADY  CAROLINE  KEPPEL. 


Lady  Caroline  Keppel,  daughter  of  the  second  Earl  of  Albemarle,  was 
born  in  1735.  Robin  Adair  was  the  name  of  an  Irish  surgeon  whom  she 
loved  and  married,  and  whose  memory  she  has  perpetuated  in  undying 
verse.  He  survived  his  loving  wife  many  years,  remaining  constant  to  her 
image.  This  favorite  song  is  set  to  a  plaintive  Irish  air. 


W 


HAT'S  this  dull  town  to  me? 
Robin's  not  here; 


i  I 

1 

WOMEN  AS   POETS.  385 

He  whom  I  wished  to  see, 

Wished  for  to  hear! 
Where's  all  the  joy  and  mirth 
Made  life  a  heaven  on  earth? 
Oh,  they're  all  fled  with  thee 
Robin  Ad  air! 

What  made  the  assembly  shine? 

Robin  Ad  air. 
What  made  the  ball  so  fine? 

Robin  was  there! 
What  when  the  play  was  o'er, 
What  made  my  heart  so  sore? 
Oh,  it  was  parting  with 

Robin  Adair! 

But  now  thou'rt  far  from  me, 

Robin  Adair; 
But  now,  I  never  see 

Robin  Adair; 
Yet  he  I  loved  so  well 
Still  in  my  heart  shall  dwell; 
Oh,  I  can  ne'er  forget 

Robin  Adair! 

Welcome  on  shore  again, 

Robin  Adair; 
Welcome  once  more  again, 

Robin  Adair; 
I  feel  thy  trembling  hand, 
Tears  in  thy  eyelids  stand 
To  greet  thy  native  land, 

Robin  Adair. 


386  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

Long  I  ne'er  saw  thee,  love, 

Robin  Adair; 
Still  I  prayed  for  thee,  love, 

Robin  Adair. 

When  thou  wert  far  at  sea 
Many  made  love  to  me; 
But  still  I  thought  on  thee, 

Robin  Adair. 

Come  to  my  heart  again, 

Robin  Adair; 
Never  to  part  again, 

Robin  Adair! 
And  if  thou  still  art  true 
I  will  be  constant,  too, 
And  will  wed  none  but  you, 

Robin  Adair! 


KNOCKING* 

1  Behold)  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock." 


BY  HARRIET  BKECHER  STOWE. 


It  seems  almost  superfluous  to  give  a  memoir  of  the  author  of  "  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin;"  her  name  is  a  household  word,  and  she  belongs  as  imperish- 
ably  to  the  present  century,  and  the  American  people,  as  the  record  of  their 
liberties.  A  sister  of  the  famous  divine,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  she  is  a 
year  or  two  older  than  he,  and  singularly  like  him  in  disposition  and  pecu- 
liarities of  temperament,  but  very  unlike  in  personal  appearance.  Born  in 
1812,  at  Litchfleld,  Connecticut,  she  was  almost  the  eldest  of  that  large 
Beecher  family,  remarkable  for  their  talents  and  idiosyncrasies  of  character. 
In  1836  Miss  Beecher  was  married  to  the  Rev.  Calvin  E.  Stowe,  who  is 
still  living  at  Hartford,  Connecticut,  where  their  pleasant  home  is  located. 
Mrs.  Stowe  gave  to  the  world  in  1852,  the  book  that  made  her  famous, — 
*  Suggested  by  Hunt's  picture  "  Light  of  the  World." 


WOMEN"  AS  POETS.  387 

"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  —  which  had  for  many  years  a  phenomenal  sale,  it 
being  difficult  to  supply  the  demand  for  it.  Mrs.  Stowe  told  her  publishers 
she  hoped  to  make  a  new  black  silk  out  of  the  profits.  Her  first  check  was 
for  $10,000,  and  she  and  her  husband  were  so  bewildered  by  the  receipt  of 
such  a  large  sum  that  they  had  to  be  instructed  how  to  take  care  of  it.  Mrs. 
Stowe  is  still  in  good  health,  and  is  engaged  on  a  new  novel. 


NOCKING,  knocking,  ever  knocking! 

Who  is  there? 
'Tis  a  pilgrim,  strange  and  kingly, 

Never  such  was  seen  before; 
Ah,  sweet  soul;  for  such  a  wonder, 
Undo  the  door! 

No!  that  door  is  hard  to  open; 
Hinges  rusty,  latch  is  broken; 

Bid  Him  go. 

Wherefore,  with  that  knocking  dreary, 
Scare  the  sleep  from  one  so  weary? 

Say  Him,  no. 

Knocking,  knocking,  ever  knocking! 

What!  still  there? 
Oh,  sweet  soul,  but  once  behold  Him, 

With  the  glory-crowned  hair; 
And  those  eyes,  so  true  and  tender, 

Waiting  there! 
Open,  open,  once  behold  Him  — 

Him  so  fair! 

Ah,  that  door!  why  wilt  thou  vex  me-» 

Coming  ever  to  perplex  me? 

For  the  key  is  stiffly  rusty; 

And  the  bolt  is  clogged  and  dusty; 


t 

1 
I 
WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN    DO. 

Many  fingered  ivy  vine 
Seals  it  fast  with  twist  and  twine; 
Weeds  of  years  and  years  before, 
Choke  the  passage  of  that  door. 

Knocking,  knocking!  What!  still  knocking? 

He  still  there?  > 

What's  the  hour?    The  night  is  waning;  ![ 

In  my  heart  a  drear  complaining, 

And  a  chilly,  sad  interest. 
Ah,  this  knocking!  it  disturbs  me — 
Scares  my  sleep  with  dreams  unblest. 

Give  me  rest — 

Rest — ah,  rest! 

Rest,  dear  soul,  He  longs  to  give  thee; 
Thou  hast  only  dreamed  of  pleasure — 
Dreamed  of  gifts  and  golden  treasure; 
Dreamed  of  jewels  in  thy  keeping, 
Waked  to  weariness  of  weeping; 
Open  to  thy  soul's  one  Lover, 
And  thy  night  of  dreams  is  over; 
The  true  gifts  He  brings  have  seeming 
More  than  all  thy  faded  dreaming. 

Did  she  open?  Doth  she — will  she? 
So,  as  wondering  we  behold, 
Grows  the  picture  to  a  sign, 
Pressed  upon  your  soul  and  mine; 
For  in  every  breast  that  liveth 
Is  that  strange,  mysterious  door, — 
The  forsaken  and  betangled, 
Ivy-gnarled  and  weed  be  jangled 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  389 

Dusty,  rusty,  and  forgotten; — 
There  the  pierced  hand  still  knocketh, 
And  with  ever  patient  watching, 
With  the  sad  eyes  true  and  tender, 
With  the  glory-crowned  hair, 
Still  a  God  is  waiting  there. 


,  THE  EARLY  BLUE-BIRD. 


1 

BY  MRS.  LYDIA  H.  SIQOURNET. 


Mrs.  Sigourney  was  a  profuse  and  valuable  writer  for  the  young,  when 
the  age  dealt  in  fact  rather  than  fiction,  and  religion  was  believed  to  be  a 
stronger  power  than  morality.  Many  of  her  poems  are  devotional  hymns 
in  their  character,  and  no  doubt  they  had  a  salutary  influence  in  molding 
the  lives  of  the  young  of  that  period.  Mrs.  Sigourney  was  born  in  1791. 
and  died  in  1865.  She  was  an  American  writer,  her  birth-place  being  Nat* 
wich,  Conn.  Her  style  is  similar  to  that  of  Mrs.  Hemans. 

BLUE-BIRD  on  yon  leafless  tree, 
Dost  thou  carol  thus  to  me? 
"  Spring  is  coming!  spring  is  here! 

Sayest  thou  so,  my  birdie  dear? 

What  is  that  in  misty  shroud 

Stealing  from  the  darkened  cloud? 

Lo!  the  snow-flakes,  gathering  mound 

Settles  o'er  the  whitened  ground. 

Yet  thou  singest,  blithe  and  clear, 
"  Spring  is  coming!     Spring  is  here!  " 

Strikest  thou  not  too  loud  a  strain? 
Winds  are  piping  o'er  the  plain; 
Clouds  are  sweeping  o'er  the  sky 
With  a  black  and  threatening  eye; 


890  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

Urchins,  by  the  frozen  rill 
Wrap  their  mantles  closer  still; 
Yon  poor  man,  with  doublet  old, 
Doth  he  shiver  at  the  cold? 
Hath  he  not  a  nose  of  blue? 
Tell  me  birdling,  tell  me  true. 

Spring's  a  maid  of  mirth  and  glee, 
Rosy  wreaths  and  revelry; 
Hast  thou  woo'd  some  winged  love 
To  a  nest  in  verdant  grove? 
Sung  to  her  of  greenwood  bower, 
Sunny  skies  that  never  lower? 
Lured  her  with  thy  promise  fair 
Of  a  lot  that  knows  no  care? 
Prythee  hid  in  coat  of  blue, 
Though  a  lover,  tell  her  true. 

Ask  her  if  when  storms  are  long, 
She  can  sing  a  cheerful  song? 
When  the  rude  winds  rock  the  tree 
If  she'll  closer  cling  to  thee? 
Then  the  blasts  that  sweep  the  sky, 
Unappalled  shall  pass  thee  by; 
Through  thy  curtained  chamber  show 
Sifting  of  untimely  snow; 
Warm  and  glad  thy  heart  shall  be, 
Love  shall  make  it  spring  for  thee. 


RELEASED. 


BY  MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


Mrs.  Whitney  was  born  in  Boston,  in  1824,  and  married  to  Seth  D.  Whit- 
ney in  1843.     She  is  best  known  as  a  writer  of  popular  novels,  her  works 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  391 

being  singularly  felicitous  in  character  and  sentiment  for  the  young. 
"Pansies"  and  "Footsteps  on  the  Seas,"  her  poetical  effusions,  were  pub- 
lished in  1857.  Her  poetry  has  the  same  charm  that  her  prose  has,  that  of 
dealing  gracefully  and  tenderly  with  homely  subjects,  and  elevating  the 
commonest  daily  toil  to  ennobling  heights.  Mrs.  Whitney  is  still  engaged 
in  writing  for  the  public. 

A  little  low-ceiled  room.     Four  walls 
Whose  blank  shut  out  all  else  of  life, 
And  crowded  close  within  their  bound 
A  world  of  pain,  and  toil  and  strife. 

Her  world.     Scarce  furthermore  she  knew 
Of  God's  great  globe  that  wondrously 

Outrolls  a  glory  of  green  earth, 
And  frames  it  with  the  restless  sea. 

Four  closer  walls  of  common  pine; 

And  therein  lying,  cold  and  still, 
The  weary  flesh  that  long  hath  borne 

Its  patient  mystery  of  ill. 

Regardless  now  of  work  to  do, 

No  queen  more  careless  in  her  state, 


For  other  hands  the  work  may  wait. 


Hands  crossed  in  an  unknown  calm; 


Put  by  her  implements  of  toil;  H 

Put  by  each  coarse,  obtrusive  sign; 
She  made  a  sabbatb  when  she  died, 

And  round  her  breathes  a  rest  divine. 

Put  by,  at  last,  beneath  the  lid, 

The  exempted  hands,  the  tranquil  face; 
Uplift  her  in  her  dreamless  sleep, 

And  bear  her  gently  from  the  place. 


392  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Oft  has  she  gazed,  •with  wistful  eyes, 
Out  from  that  threshold  on  the  night; 

The  narrow  bourn  she  crosseth  now; 
She  standeth  in  the  eternal  light. 

Oft  she  has  pressed,  with  aching  feet, 
Those  broken  steps  that  reach  the  door; 

Henceforth,  with  angels,  she  shall  tread 
Heaven's  golden  stair,  for  evermore! 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LEAL. 


BY  LADY  CAROLINE  NAIRNE. 


This  exquisitely  simple  and  pathetic  poem  was  written  by  Lady  Caroline 
Nairne,  who  was  born  in  1766,  and  died  in  1845.  Caroline  Oliphant  was  a 
native  of  Perth,  Scotland,  and  married  Major  Nairne,  who  afterwards  was 
raised  to  the  peerage,  when  she  became  Baroness  Nairne.  This  poem,  and 
another,  "Would  you  be  young  again,"  gave  Lady  Nairne  a  rank  among 
the  best  English  poets,  but  they  are  often  published  anonymously,  or  cred- 
ited to  older  Scottish  poets.  They  can  both  be  found  in  her  poema  and 
memoirs,  edited  by  Dr.  Charles  Rogers,  and  published  in  1868. 


I 


'M  WEARIN'  awa',  Jean, 

Like  snaw-wreaths  in  thaw,  Jean, 
I'm  wearin'  awa' 

To  the  land  of  the  leal. 

There's  nae  sorrow  there,  Jean, 
There's  neither  cauld  nor  care,  Jean, 
The  day  is  aye  fair 

In  the  land  of  the  leal. 

Our  bonnie  bairn's  there,  Jean, 
She  was  baith  gude  and  fair,  Jean, 
And  oh!  we  grudged  her  sair 
To  the  land  of  the  leal. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  393 

But  sorrow's  seP  wears  past,  Jean, 
And  joy's  a-comin'  fast,  Jtan, 
The  joy  that's  aye  to  last 
In  the  land  of  the  leal. 

Sae  dear  that  joy  was  bought,  Jean, 
Sae  free  the  battle  fought,  Jean, 
That  sinful  man  e'er  brought 
To  the  land  of  the  leal. 

Oh!  dry  your  glistening  e'e,  Jean, 
My  soul  langs  to  be  free,  Jean, 
An  angel  beckons  me 

To  the  land  of  the  leal. 

Oh!  haud  ye  leal  and  true,  Jean, 
Your  day  it's  wearin'  thro',  Jean, 
And  I'll  welcome  you 

To  the  land  of  the  leal. 

Now  fare  ye  weel,  my  ain  Jean, 
This  warld's  cares  are  vain,  Jean, 
We'll  meet  and  we'll  be  fain, 
In  the  land  of  the  leal. 


394  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


A  MOTHER'S  DAY. 


BY  MRS.  C.  D.  SPENCER. 


Mrs.  C.  D.  Spencer,  at  present  a  resident  of  Greenville,  Mich.,  was  born 
at  Naples,  Ontario  Co.,  New  York,  in  1839.  Her  maiden  name  wasLovica 
Inerham.  Mrs.  Spencer  has  for  many  years  contributed  short  stories  and 
poems  to  the  best  periodicals  and  magazines  of  the  country.  She  takes  spe- 
cial delight  in  entertaining  the  young  in  her  short  stories,  and  has  bright- 
ened many  homes  and  faces  by  them.  For  the  past  eight  years  her  hus- 
band, Rev.  C.  D.  Spencer,  has  been  an  invalid,  and  the  support  of  herself, 
husband  and  six  interesting  children  has  devolved  wholly  upon  herself. 

WHEN"  the  bustle  all  was  over, 
And  the  last  hood  snugly  tied, 
And  the  eager,  dancing  children, 
Fearful  lest  they  lose  their  ride, 
Rushed  away  to  join  their  playmates 
In  the  sleigh  now  running  o'er 
With  its  freightage,  to  be  emptied 
Safely  at  the  schoolroom  door, 

Then  I  turned,  and  looked  around  me 

At  the  work  that  must  be  done 

Ere  these  children,  tired  and  hungry, 

Should  at  last  come  trooping  home. 

And  the  task  seemed  but  a  burden 

I  had  little  heart  ^o  bear; 

And,  with  thoughts  despondent,  bitter, 

Sank  into  an  easy  chair. 

And  it  seemed  to  me  my  children 
Ne'er  so  careless  were  before; 
Even  husband's  coat  and  slippers 
Had  been  left  upon  the  floor. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  395 

And  they  would  expect  that  mother 
All  these  things  would  put  to  rights, 
And  have  smiles  and  supper  ready 
When  they  should  return  at  night. 

And  with  hands  all  idly  folded 
Thus  my  bitter  thoughts  ran  o'er: 
All  the  duties  of  my  household 
Which  had  blessings  seemed  before, 
Duties  which  as  wife  and  mother 
Daily,  hourly,  I  must  do. 
Time  must  not  be  idly  wasted, 
If  to  these  trusts  I  prove  true. 

I  must  keep  my  house  so  "  homelike  " 
That  to  all  these  precious  ones 
There  would  be  no  place  so  pleasant, 
None  where  they  so  loved  to  come. 
There  must  be  the  constant  watching 
Lest  the  evil  enter  there, 
Earnest,  loving,  prayerful  shielding 
From  the  wily  tempter's  snare. 

I  must  reprimand  when  wayward; 
I  must  praise  when  they  do  well; 
I  must  heal  each  head  and  heart  ache; 
Hear  each  tale  they  have  to  tell; 
I  must  teach  them  to  be  helpful; 
Guide  their  feet  and  hands  aright; 
I  must  help  them  weave  their  life  web, 
With  no  respite  day  or  night. 

I  must  tread  the  daily  routine 
Of  my  housework  o'er  and  o'er, 


396  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

For  the  Father  had  not  given 
To  me  much  of  earthly  store; 
So  the  planning  and  the  working 
My  own  head  and  hands  must  do, 
Even  though  those  hands  grow  weary, 
And  my  head  and  heart  ache  too. 

And  not  even  with  my  home  work- 
Still  my  bitter  thoughts  ran  on — 
Can  I  stop,  for  other  duties 
Press  my  mind  and  time  upon; 
Sabbath  school,  and  mission  circle, 
•  Temperance  lodge  and  Christmas  tree, 

Concert,  meeting  and  church  social — 
Everything  must  call  on  me. 

Why  need  I  help  do  the  planning, 
Urge  the  pressing  need  of  work, 
Spend  my  time  and  strength  in  doing, 
When  so  many  others  shirk  ? 
Others  with  so  much  more  leisure, 
More  ability  to  do, 
Who  should  feel  it  was  a  pleasure 
And  an  urgent  duty,  too. 


Others  with  more  means  for  giving 

That  the  story  may  be  told — 

Ah  !  of  whom  ?    The  blessed  Saviour- 

To  my  vision  there  arose 

Suddenly  a  striking  picture 

Of  the  scene  on  Calvary, 

Of  the  precious,  patient  Jesus 

Bleeding,  dying,  there  for  me. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  397 

And  I  seemed  to  hear  him  saying, 

I  will  give  my  life  for  thee, 

I  am  bearing  this  great  burden, 

Canst  not  thou  bear  aught  for  me? 

I  have  given  thee  home  and  husband, 

And  these  precious  children,  too; 

Given  thee  church  and  Sabbath  privilege, 

Given  thee  this  work  to  do." 

Still  my  hands  lay  idly  folded, 
But  the  bitter  thoughts  were  gone; 
And  I  turned,  subdued  and  thankful, 
To  the  duties  of  my  home. 
Would  I  give  unto  another 
My  place  in  my  husband's  heart, 
Desecrate  the  name  of  Mother, 
By  not  bearing  well  my  part ! 

Would  I  give  up  the  dear  church  home 
Where  I  love  so  well  to  meet 
With  the  followers  of  my  Saviour, 
Worshiping  at  his  dear  feet  ? 
And  would  I  have  any  other 
Bear  my  cross  and  wear  my  crown, 
And  not  hear  the  voice  of  Jesus 
Say  to  me,  "  Thou  hast  well  done  "  ? 

Of  the  struggle  and  the  victory 

None  but  Jesus  ever  knew; 

But  I  gained  new  strength  and  courage 

My  life  duties  to  renew. 

And  all  day  my  hands  were  busy 

Putting  all  the  things  to  rights, 

And,  with  smiles  and  supper  ready, 

Greeted  the  loved  ones  at  night. 


398  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


OLD  AGE  COMING. 


BY  ELIZABETH  HAMILTON. 


Elizabeth  Hamilton,  a  Scotch  writer,  author  of  "  The  Cottagers  of  Glen- 
burnie,"  and  several  other  sensible  and  interesting  works.  She  died,  unmar- 
ried, about  fifty  years  ago,  nearly  sixty  years  old.  These  lines  were  written 
in  such  very  broad  Scotch,  that  we  have  taken  the  liberty  to  render  them  in 
English,  making  no  changes,  except  a  few  slight  variations,  which  the 
necessities  of  rhyme  required. 

IS  that  Old  Age,  who's  knocking  at  the  gate ? 
I  trow  it  is.     He  sha'n't  be  asked  to  wait. 
You're  kindly  welcome,  friend  !     Nay,  do  not  fear 
To  show  yourself  !     You'll  cause  no  trouble  here.    ' 
I  know  there  're  some  who  tremble  at  your  name, 
As  though  you  brought  with  you  reproach  or  shame; 
And  who  of  thousand  lies  would  bear  the  sin, 
Rather  than  own  you  for  their  kith  and  kin. 
But  far  from  shirking  you  as  a  disgrace, 
Thankful  I  am  to  live  to  see  your  face. 
Nor  will  I  e'er  disown  you,  or  take  pride 
To  think  how  long  I  might  your  visit  hide. 
I'll  do  my  best  to  make  you  well  respected, 
And  fear  not  for  your  sake  to  be  neglected. 
Now  you  have  come,  and,  through  all  kinds  of  weather 
"We're  doomed  from  this  time  forth  to  jog  together, 
I'd  fain  make  compact  with  you,  firm  and  strong, 
On  terms  of  give  and  take,  to  hold  out  long. 
If  you'll  be  civil,  I  will  liberal  be; 
Witness  the  list  of  what  1'ii  give  to  thee. 
First  then,  I  here  make  o'er,  for  good  and  aye, 
All  youthful  fancies,  whether  bright  or  gay. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  399 

Beauties  and  graces,  too,  might  be  resigned, 

But  much  I  fear  they  would  be  hard  to  find; 

For  'gainst  your  daddy  Time  they  could  not  stand, 

Nor  bear  the  grip  of  his  relentless  hand. 

But  there's  my  skin,  which  you  may  further  crinkle, 

And  write  your  name,  at  length,  on  ev'ry  wrinkle. 

On  my  brown  locks  your  powder  you  may  throw, 

And  bleach  them  to  your  fancy,  white  as  snow. 

But  look  not,  Age,  so  wistful  at  my  mouth, 

As  if  you  longed  to  pull  out  ev'ry  tooth  ! 

Let  them,  I  do  beseech  you,  keep  their  places  ! 

Though,  if  you  like,  you're  free  to  paint  their  faces. 

My  limbs  I  yield  you;  and  if  you  see  meet 

To  clap  your  icy  shackles  on  my  feet, 

I'll  not  refuse;  but  if  you  drive  out  gout, 

Will  bless  you  for  't,  and  offer  thanks  devout, 

So  much  I  give  to  you  with  free  good- will; 

But,  O,  I  fear  that  more  you  look  for  still. 

I  know,  by  your  stern  look  and  meaning  leers, 

You  want  to  clap  your  fingers  on  my  ears. 

Right  willing,  too,  you  are,  as  I  surmise, 

To  cast  your  misty  powder  in  my  eyes. 

But,  O,  in  mercy,  spare  my  little  twinklers  ! 

And  I  will  always  wear  your  crystal  blinkers. 

Then  'bout  my  ears  I'd  fain  a  bargain  strike, 

And  give  my  hand  upon  it,  if  you  like. 

Well,  then — would  you  consent  their  use  to  share? 

'T  would  serve  us  both,  and  be  a  bargain  rare. 

I'd  have  it  thus, — When  babbling  fools  intrude, 

Gabbling  their  noisy  nonsense  for  no  good; 

Or  when  ill-nature,  well  brushed  up  with  wit, 

With  sneer  sarcastic,  takes  its  aim  to  hit; 


400  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

Or  when  detraction,  meanest  sort  of  pride, 

Spies  out  small  faults,  and  seeks  great  worth  to  hide; 

Then  make  me  deaf  as  ever  deaf  can  be  ! 

At  all  such  times,  my  ears  I  lend  to  thee. 

But  when,  in  social  hours,  you  see  combined 

Genius  and  wisdom,  fruits  of  heart  and  mind, 

Good  sense,  good  nature,  wit  in  playful  mood, 

And  candor,  e'en  from  ill  extracting  good; 

O,  then,  old  friend,  I  must  have  back  my  hearing  f 

To  want  it  then  would  be  an  ill  past  bearing. 

I'd  rather  sit  alone,  in  wakeful  dreaming, 

Than  catch  the  sound  of  words  without  their  meaning. 

You  will  not  promise  ?     O,  you're  very  glum  J 

Right  hard  to  manage,  you're  so  cold  and  dumb  ! 

No  matter. — Whole  and  sound  I'll  keep  my  heart. 

Not  from  one  crumb  on't  will  I  ever  part. 

Its  kindly  warmth  shall  ne'er  be  chilled  by  all 

The  coldest  breath  that  from  your  lips  can  fall. 

You  needn't  vex  yourself,  old  churl,  nor  fret  I 

My  kindly  feelings  you  shall  never  get. 

And  though  to  take  my  hearing  you  rejoice, 

In  spite  of  you,  I'll  still  hear  friendship's  voice. 

And  though  you  take  the  rest,  it  shall  not  grieve  me; 

For  gleams  of  cheerful  spirits  you  must  leave  me. 

But  let  me  whisper  in  your  ear,  Old  Age, 

I'm  bound  to  travel  with  you  but  one  stage. 

Be  't  long  or  short,  you  cannot  keep  me  back; 

And  when  we  reach  the  end  on  't,  you  must  pack ! 

Be  't  soon  or  late,  we  part  forever  there  I 

Other  companionship  I  then  shall  share. 

This  blessed  change  to  me  you're  bound  to  bring. 

You  need  not  think  I  shall  be  loath  to  spring 


BY  Miss  ALICE  E.  IVES. 


Miss  Ives  has  had  considerable  success  as  a  writer  of  verse  and  short  sto- 
ries, also  as  a  dramatic  and  art  critic.  Her  stories,  written  for  New  York 
and  Detroit  papers,  have  been  quite  extensively  copied.  One  which 
appeared  several  years  ago  in  the  "  Detroit  Free  Fress"  is  still  going  the 
rounds  of  different  journals,  and  has  reached  as  far  as  New  Zealand.  Her 
verses  have  appeared  in  "Our  Continent "  and  the  "New  York  Sunday 
Mercury."  As  a  dramatic  writer  she  bids  fair  to  obtain  recognition,  one  of 
her  plays  having  been  accepted  by  a  leading  star,  by  whom  it  is  shortly  to 
be  produced;  another,  a  tragedy  in  blank  verse,  is  soon  to  be  published  by 
an  eastern  house.  Miss  Ives  is  a  resident  of  Detroit,  which  is  her  birthplace. 

THE  lighthouse  keeper's  daughter 
With  wind-toss'd  rippling  hair, 
And  eyes  bright  as  the  sea-gull's, 

Stands  tall,  and  strong,  and  fair. 
tt 


WOMEN  AS  POETS.  401 

From  your  poor  feeble  side,  you  churl  uncouth  ! 

Into  the  arms  of  Everlasting  Youth. 

All  that  your  thieving  hands  have  stolen  away 

He  will,  with  interest,  to  me  repay. 

Fresh  gifts  and  graces  freely  he'll  bestow, 

More  than  the  heart  has  wished,  or  mind  can  know. 

You  need  not  wonder  then,  nor  swell  with  pride. 

That  I  so  kindly  welcomed  you  as  guide 

To  one  who's  far  your  better.     Now  all's  told. 

Let  us  set  out  upon  our  journey  cold. 

With  no  vain  boasts,  no  vain  regrets  tormented. 

We'll  quietly  jog  on  our  way,  contented. 


IDA  LEWIS. 


402  WHAT   CATT  A  WOMAN   DO. 

As  out  her  frail  skiff  plunges 

From  shade  of  Lime  Rock  Light, 

Across  the  angry  breakers 

On  through  the  stormy  night, 

Fearless  as  some  wild  water  sprite, 
Her  white,  round  arms  of  steel 

Fling  foam  and  spray  from  flashing  oar 
And  from  the  dancing  keel. 

Within  her  blue  eye  gleams  the  light 

Of  purpose  calm  and  bold, 
Such  as  made  knights  and  martyrs 

In  saintly  days  of  old. 

Her  quick  ear  strains  to  catch  the  sound- 
As  swift  she  guides  her  barque — 

Of  cries  above  the  tempest, 

That  wail  out  through  the  dark. 

For  never  boom  of  signal  gun 

Nor  aid  comes  from  afar, 
As  she  through  mountain  billows 

Steers  for  the  floating  spar; 

Steers  for  the  clinging,  dying  man, 

Who  sees  no  help  in  sight; 
When  suddenly  the  little  skiff 

Dawns  like  a  beam  of  light. 

It  speeds  like  sea-bird  on  the  blast, 
On,  on,  and  still  more  near, 

Till,  through  the  storm,  the  maiden's  voice 
Rings  out  with  words  of  cheer. 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  403 

And  as  the  strong  arms  pull  each  stroke, 

The  gulf  of  death  is  spanned, 
And  life  comes  to  the  shudd'ring  soul, 

Brought  by  a  womari's  hand. 

So  ever  as  the  years  go  by, 

On  errands  swift  to  save, 
The  angel  of  the  Lighthouse 

Still  braves  the  wind  and  wave, 

O  woman  soul,  so  true  and  strong ! 

No  marble  shaft  is  thine, 
But  hi  a  nation's  heart  thy  deeds 

Shall  shine  with  light  divine. 

And  when  in  after  ages 

They  ask  of  her  fair  fame, 
The  very  waves  'round  old  Lime  Rock 

Shall  sing  the  maiden's  name. 

THE  STORY  OF  IDA  LEWIS. 


That  our  readers  may  better  appreciate  the  beautiful 
poem  of  Miss  Ives  (written  especially  for  this  work),  we 
give  here  some  of  the  facts  pertaining  to  the  bravery  of 
Ida  Lewis,  the  Newport  heroine,  appropriately  called  by 
some  "The  Grace  Darling  of  America." 

Ida  Lewis  is  the  daughter  of  Captain  Hosea  Lewis,  of 
Higham,  Mass.,  and  was  born  on  February  25, 1842.  She 
attended  the  public  school  at  Newport  until  she  was 
fifteen  years  of  age,  when  her  parents  moved  to  Lime 
Rock  Lighthouse  ;  soon  after  their  removal  to  the  light- 
house her  father  was  stricken  down  with  paralysis,  and 


404 


WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


Ida  was  obliged  to  accustom  herself  to  the  use  of  the 
oars,  and  bring  all  the  supplies  to  the  lighthouse,  and 
row  her  smaller  brothers  and  sisters  to  and  from  school; 
she  soon  became  an  expert — as  much  at  home  on  the 
water  as  on  the  land.  Her  philanthropic  nature  was  first 
gratified  in  the  fall  of  1858,  when  she  won  a  place  among 
the  brave  by  rescuing  from  drowning  four  young  men 
whose  pleasure  boat  had  been  upset ;  at  this  time  she 
was  but  sixteen.  Eight  years  later  she  saved  a  sol- 
dier from  a  neighboring  fort  from  drowning.  In  1867 
three  Irishmen  saw  a  sheep  drifting  off  at  sea,  and 
started  after  it  in  a  small  row  boat ;  they  had  gone  but  a 
short  distance,  when,  amid  the  white-capped  billows  of 
the  ocean,  their  courage  failed  them,  and,  on  turning 
round,  they  found  they  were  powerless  to  reach  the 
shore.  The  heroine  of  old  Lime  Rock  took  them  from 
their  sinking  boat,  and  brought  them  safely  to  shore, 
after  which  she  returned  and  brought  the  sheep  to  land 
also.  Two  weeks  later  she  saved  a  man  whose  boat,  hav- 
ing sprung  a  leak  from  striking  a  rock,  had  sunk  and 
left  him  up  to  his  chin  in  water,  while  the  rising  tide  was 
threatening  to  engulf  him.  On  March  29,  1869,  Ida  was 
sitting  in  her  favorite  chair,  beside  the  warm  fire,  finish- 
ing some  needlework  before  preparing  the  family's 
evening  meal.  Her  mother,  sitting  near  the  window, 
suddenly  discovered  a  capsized  boat,  to  which  two  sol- 
diers from  the  garrison  at  Fort  Adams  were  clinging. 
She  had  scarcely  made  known  the  facts,  when  her  daugh- 
ter, catching  only  the  words  "drowning  men,"  sprang 
to  her  feet,  prompt  and  eager  to  save  them.  In  spite  of 


WOMEN  AS   POETS.  405 

her  invalid  father's  entreaties  (for  the  old  sailor  knew 
the  danger),  she  is  at  the  door.  All  thoughts  of  the 
warmth  and  comfort  within  have  vanished  now,  and  the 
patient,  toiling  girl  has  become  a  heroine,  flying,  with 
dauntless  soul,  to  save  the  perishing.  She  has  no  shoes 
upon  her  feet,  no  hat  upon  her  head,  and  no  outer  gar- 
ments to  protect  her  from  the  storm,  with  only  a  towel, 
hastily  seized  and  knotted  about  her  neck,  her  stocking- 
clad  feet  speed  her  away  over  sharp  rocks  to  her  ever- 
ready  boat.  A  younger  brother,  at  her  request,  accom- 
panies her  to  assist  in  dragging  the  drowning  men  into 
the  boat;  but  to  Ida's  skill  and  willing  arms  must  be 
trusted  the  plying  of  those  oars  upon  whose  dexterous 
use  depends  the  saving  of  those  lives,  now  so  sorely 
threatened.  Never  before  were  her  hands  so  tried,  or 
the  strength  of  woman's  arm  so  tested.  Though  the 
green  billows,  crested  with  white  foam,  came  flying  over 
the  open  boat,  nearly  filling  it  with  water,  she  heeds 
them  not.  Fame,  success  and  a  nation's  encomiums 
wait  upon  her  exertions,  or,  it  may  be,  a  watery  grave 
beside  those  she  is  trying  to  save.  Her  mother  stands 
upon  the  rock,  wildly  gesticulating  and  endeavoring  to 
encourage  the  drowning  men  to  continue  their  efforts  for 
life ;  it  is  all  the  aged  woman  can  do,  but  she  does  it 
well.  The  race  for  life  is  accomplished,  our  heroine 
reaches  the  drifting  wreck,  the  exhausted  men  are 
brought  safely  to  the  lighthouse,  and  new  laurels  are 
added  to  Ida's  well-earned  wreath  of  fame.  One  of  the 
rescued  men,  Sergeant  Adams,  is  barely  able  to  totter  to 
the  house,  while  his  companion,  but  an  hour  ago  a  pic- 


406  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

ture  of  strength  and  vigor,  required  united  strength,  to 
remove  him  from  the  boat. 

Thus  ends  the  story  of  Ida  Lewis's  exploits — deeds 
worthy  of  emulation,  which,  in  the  grand  old  days  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  would  have  gained  the  applause  of 
Senates,  and  have  been  perpetuated  in  the  sculptor's 
marble  and  upon  the  historian's  tablet  of  brass. 

The  Life  Saving  Benevolent  Association  of  New  York 
awarded  her  a  silver  medal  and  one  hundred  dollars,  and 
the  General  Assembly  of  her  own  State  (Rhode  Island) 
passed  resolutions  acknowledging  her  brave  arid  valua- 
ble services.  These  resolutions  were  formally  communi- 
cated to  her  by  a  document  from  the  Secretary  of  State, 
and  with  the  State  seal  affixed.  The  officers  and  soldiers 
of  the  fort  sent  her  their  thanks,  accompanied  by  the 
more  substantial  reward  of  a  purse  containing  two  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  dollars,  and  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  letters  and  valuable  gifts  were  sent  to  her  as 
tokens  of  regard. 

Through  the  heroic  deeds  of  Ida  Lewis,  Lime  Rock 
Lighthouse  has  become  famous,  and  many  noted  persons 
have  since  then  visited  the  place. 

There  are  many  philanthropic  women  who,  in  Chris- 
tian faith  and  love  have  done  noble  deeds,  but  it  is 
doubtful  if  any  have  become  so  famous  as  Ida  Lewis  for 
handling  the  oars,  and  with  such  noble  results ;  but  all 
true  women  will  delight  to  honor  one  who  reflects  so 
much  honor  on  her  sex  and  humanity,  and  who  has  so 
clearly  demonstrated  what  a  woman  can  do. 


Bri 


rz  r) 


*  o7 


OMEN    feel    friendship    insipid 
after   love,   says   that  dogmatic 
Frenchman,    La  Rochefoucauld. 
And  Swift,  who  ought  to  have 
known  better,  with  the  example  right 
under  his  eyes  of  the  life-long  affec- 


tion of  Esther  Johnson  and  Lady  Gifford,  wrote: 
To  speak  the  truth,  I  never  yet  knew  a  toler- 
able woman  to  be  fond  of  her  own  sex." 

It  would  scarcely  be  worth  while  to  at- 
tempt to  controvert  the  sweeping  assertions  of 
a  cynic  and  a  satirist,  were  it  not  that  even  in 
this  advanced  age  we  occasionally  hear  people  of 
considerable  sense  advance  a  like  opinion,  with 
every  appearance  of  believing  it  themselves.  Very  sad, 
indeed,  must  be  the  private  experience  of  any  of  us  who 
cannot  furnish  at  least  one  refutation  of  this  charge 
against  womankind. 

Hut  if  HK>  -vii ui DC  friendship  which  exists  between 
women  who  are  unknown  to  the  public,  like  the  testimo- 
nials attached  to  patent  medicines,  is  not  likely  to  be 
taken  as  very  authentic  proof  of  the  value  of  the  article, 

407 


408  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

at  least  a  few  instances,  of  which  there  is  abundant  cor- 
roboration,  in  the  lives  of  world-renowned  and  illustrious 
women,  may  serve  to  prove  the  truth  of  our  argument. 

What  devotion  could  be  more  lasting  and  heroic  than 
that  of  the  Princess  Lamballe  for  her  unfortunate  friend, 
Marie  Antoinette?  They  had  shared  each  other's  confi- 
dences in  the  happy  days  of  prosperity,  and,  when  evil 
days  came  upon  the  queen,  the  princess  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  seek  her  own  safety  by  leaving  the  palace. 
When  at  last  she  was  summoned  to  the  bedside  of  a 
dying  relative,  Marie  Antoinette  sent  her  a  letter  beg- 
ging her  not  to  return.  "Your  heart,"  she  wrote, 
"would  be  too  deeply  wounded;  you  would  have  too 
many  tears  to  shed  over  my  misfortunes,  you  who  love 
me  so  tenderly.  Adieu,  my  dear  Lamballe  ;  I  am  always 
thinking  of  you,  and  you  know  I  never  change  !"  But 
the  princess  hastened  back  to  her  imperiled  friend,  and 
all  through  those  terrible  last  days  of  the  sack,  the  pil- 
lage, and  the  prison,  clung  to  her  with  a  devotion  as 
tender  as  it  was  heroic.  When  they  strove  to  draw  from 
her  at  the  trial  something  prejudicial  to  the  royal  victim, 
when  the  mob  which  had  lost  the  semblance  of  human- 
ity, with  wild,  red  eyes,  howled  like  wolves  for  blood, 
she  preferred  death  to  treachery,  and  her  beautiful  head, 
with  its  wealth  of  golden  locks,  in  which  was  concealed' 
this  last  letter  from  Marie  Antoinette,  was  elevated  on  a 
pike  before  the  prison  window  of  the  woman  for  whom 
she  had  died. 

Whatever  may  have  been  said  derogatory  to  this 
daughter  of  Maria  Theresa,  the  fact  stands  proved  that 
a  woman  who  could  inspire  and  hold  such  a  devoted  and 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  WOMEN.  409 

noble  friendship  must  have  had  elements  of  character 
equally  lofty  and  beautiful. 

Scarcely  less  touching  and  heroic  was  the  attachment 
of  Catharine  Douglass  to  Lady  Jane  Beaufort,  consort  of 
James  I.  of  Scotland,  to  whom  she  was  maid  of  honor. 
On  that  terrible  night  of  February  20,  1437,  when  three 
hundred  assassins,  led  by  the  earl  of  A  thole,  "were 
forcing  their  way  into  the  royal  chamber,  Catharine 
thrust  her  beautiful  arm  into  the  stanchion  of  the  door 
as  a  bolt,  and  held  it  there  till  it  was  broken." 

The  poet  Chaucer  had  .good  cause  to  lament  the  pres- 
ence of  a  powerful  lady  rival  in  the  affections  of  his 
intended  bride,  who  for  this  reason  kept  him  waiting 
eight  years  for  her  hand.  Philippa  Picard  was  the 
favorite  of  the  queen  of  Edward  the  Third,  and,  being 
warmly  attached  to  her  royal  friend,  she  vowed  she  would 
not  marry  while  the  latter  lived ;  and  so  the  father  of 
English  poetry  was  forced  to  possess  his  soul  in  patience 
until  the  death  of  the  queen  set  his  affianced  free. 

Mary  Stuart's  four  maids  of  honor,  Mary  Fleming, 
Mary  Beton,  Mary  Livingston,  and  Mary  Seton,  "the 
Queen's  Marys,"  as  they  were  called,  with  the  exception 
of  one  who  through  illness  was  obliged  to  retire  to  a  con- 
vent, never  left  their  royal  mistress  while  she  lived,  but 
supported  and  comforted  her  even  to  the  block. 

A  friendship  which  provoked  the  good-natured  ridi- 
cule of  the  day  was  that  of  Madame  Salvage  de  Fave- 
rolles  for  Hortense,  daughter  of  Josephine,  and  queen  of 
Holland.  Madame  was  jocosely  called  the  queen's  body- 
guard, as  she  seemed  to  be  her  shadow  on  all  occasions. 
But  when  in  the  last  illness  of  Hortense  she  still 


410  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

remained  her  shadow,  never  leaving  her  day  or  night, 
and  after  her  friend's  death  faithfully  carried  out  the 
instructions  of  the  will,  the  jokers  were  silent. 

Hannah  More,  who  wrote  the  tragedy  of  Percy  for 
David  Garrick,  and  whose  fame  as  a  dramatist  was  wide 
in  her  day,  became  so  attached  to  Mrs.  Garrick  after  the 
tragedian's  death  that  the  widow  fondly  called  Miss 
More  her  chaplain. 

Miss  Elizabeth  Carter,  who  enjoyed  the  friendship  of 
Dr.  Johnson  and  other  great  men  of  that  time,  had  a 
devoted  confidante  in  the  person  of  Miss  Catherine  Tal- 
bot.  They  shared  their  secrets,  and  corresponded  regu- 
larly for  thirty  years.  Never  in  all  that  time  was  there 
one  instance  of  betrayal  or  misunderstanding.  Think 
of  that,  ye  croakers  and  cynics,  who  are  forever  saying 
"a  woman  can't  keep  a  secret!"  Think  of  keeping 
hundreds  of  secrets,  and  for  thirty  years,  too  !  If  there 
are  any  men  who  can  boast  of  a  more  extended  confi- 
dence and  friendship,  we  have  never  known  them. 

Anna  Seward,  admired  in  her  generation  as  a  beauty 
and  a  writer,  was  the  devoted  friend  of  the  lovely  Honora 
Sneyd,  of  whom  Major  Andre  was  the  rejected  lover. 
"Ah,"  writes  Miss  Seward,  "how  deeply  was  I  a  fellow 
sufferer  with  Major  Andre,  on  her  marriage !  We  both 
lost  her  forever." 

Miss  Seward' s  once  famous  "Monody  on  Major 
Andre,"  in  which  she  severely  censured  Washington  for 
his  part  in  the  execution  of  the  unfortunate  young 
officer,  was  the  source  of  so  much  grief  and  mortification 
to  the  general  that,  after  peace  was  concluded  between 
this  country  and  Great  Britain,  he  sent  an  officer  to  the 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  WOMEN.  411 

English  lady,  with  papers  showing  how  he  had  labored 
to  save  Andre.  "On  examining  them,"  she  writes  to 
the  Ladies  of  Llangollen,  "I  found  they  entirely  acquit- 
ted the  general.  They  filled  me  with  contrition  for  the 
rash  injustice  of  my  censure." 

The  Ladies  of  Llangollen,  above  referred  to,  were  per- 
haps the  most  romantic  and  remarkable  instances  of 
single-hearted  devotion  on  record.  William  R.  Alger 
has  given  a  most  delightful  account  of  them,  from  which 
we  condense  the  following:  In  the  latter  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century  Lady  Eleanor  Butler  and  Miss  Sarah 
Ponsonby  conceived  for  each  other  such  a  violent  affec- 
tion that  they  determined  to  forsake  the  social  world, 
and  pass  the  remainder  of  their  lives  together.  Accord- 
ingly they  departed  to  an  obscure  retreat  in  the  country, 
but  their  relatives,  strongly  objecting  to  such  an  eccen- 
tric proceeding,  traced  out  their  hiding-place,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  separating  and  bringing  them  back.  Opposi- 
tion in  nowise  dampened  their  ardor,  and  they  determined 
that  their  second  elopement  should  be  a  more  successful 
one.  Confiding  their  secret  only  to  a  single  faithful  ser- 
vant, they  fled.  They  chose  the  romantic  valley  of  Llan- 
gollen, in  Wales,  one  of  the  quietest  and  loveliest  spots 
in  the  world.  Here  they  bought  a  tiny  cottage,  which 
they  fitted  with  every  comfort,  and  furnished  with  books, 
pictures,  and  all  the  necessities  of  two  elegant,  cultured 
women.  Their  neighbors,  ignorant  of  their  names,  called 
them  "the  Ladies  of  the  Vale."  "For  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  it  is  said,  they  never  spent  twenty-four  hours  at 
a  time  out  of  their  happy  valley."  They  seem  never  to 


412  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 

have  wearied  of  each  other,  or  to  have  had  even  the 
slightest  misunderstanding. 

A  faithful  servant,  who  had  been  much  attached  to 
them,  set  out  several  times  to  search  for  the  young  ladies 
in  vain.  They,  happening  to  hear  of  her  unsuccessful 
attempts,  sent  for  the  woman,  and  she  lived  and  died  of 
old  age  in  their  service. 

After  a  time  the  story  of  this  romantic  friendship 
began  to  be  noised  abroad,  and  brought  many  distin- 
guished visitors  to  the  little  cottage  in  Llangollen.  Quite 
a  number  of  these  guests  became  sincerely  attached  to 
their  entertainers,  and  an  extensive  correspondence  was 
the  result.  Madame  de  Genlis  wrote  enthusiastically  of 
her  stay  with  them.  She  spoke  of  the  exquisite  taste  of 
their  tiny  establishment,  and  especially  of  the  .^Eolian 
harp  they  had  in  the  library  window,  which  she  then 
heard  for  the  first  time.  Both  of  the  ladies  read  and 
spoke  most  of  the  modern  languages,  and  Miss  Seward, 
in  describing  the  library  of  "  the  two  Minervas,"  speaks 
of  the  finest  editions,  superbly  bound,  of  the  best  authors 
of  prose  and  verse  in  the  English,  French  and  Italian 
languages.  They  were  especially  admirers  of  Dante. 
Miss  Seward  paid  many  tributes  in  verse  to  their  charm- 
ing retreat,  which  she  called  the  "Cambrian  Arden," 
and  the  two  ladies  "  the  Rosalind  and  Celia  of  real  life." 

Miss  Martineau  visited  them  in  their  old  age,  and 
describes  as  something  unique  these  ancient  dames  in 
their  riding  habits,  with  the  rolled  and  powdered  hair, 
and  stately  manners  of  a  past  century.  They  declared 
that  they  had  never,  even  in  the  long  winters  of  impris- 
oning snows,  felt  a  desire  to  return  to  the  world  they  had 


FEIENDSHIP  AMONG  WOMEN.  413 

abandoned.  Miss  Sarah  Ponsonby  lived  to  be  seventy- 
six  years  of  age,  and  Lady  Eleanor  Charlotte  Butler  to 
be  ninety.  Their  deaths  were  only  two  years  apart. 
Thus  for  nearly  three  score  years  lr.Ted  together  two  of 
the  most  devoted  friends  the  world  has  ever  known. 
Their  last  resting-place,  with  that  of  the  faithful  servant, 
can  be  seen  to-day,  marked  by  a  marble  tombstone,  in 
the  old  churchyard  of  the  little  Welsh  village,  set  in  the 
velvety  green  of  its  valley,  and  shadowed  by  the  rugged 
hills  of  Llangollen. 

A  world -renowned  friendship  was  that  of  the  bril- 
liantly-gifted Madame  de  Stael  and  the  most  celebrated 
beauty  of  her  time,  Madame  Recamier.  Margaret  Ful- 
ler, after  seeing  an  engraving  of  the  latter,  records  in  her 
diary  the  following :  "I  have  so  often  thought  over  the 
intimacy  between  her  and  Madame  de  Stael.  It  is  so 
true  that  a  woman  may  be  in  love  with  a  woman,  and  a 
man  with  a  man."  Madame  Recamier  had  an  enthusi- 
astic appreciation  of  the  genius  of  her  friend,  and 
Madame  de  Stael  in  return  felt  a  sort  of  intoxication  of 
happiness  in  the  society  of  the  beautiful  young  creature, 
whose  sincerity,  purity  and  loftiness  of  character, 
together  with  other  charming  attributes,  never  failed  to 
attract  and  fascinate.  .  Sainte  Beuve  said  that  she 
brought  the  art  of  friendship  to  perfection,  and  Luyster 
that  she  "seemed  to  possess  some  talisman  by  whose 
spell  she  disarmed  envy  and  silenced  detraction."  It 
need  scarcely  be  hinted  that  the  talisman  was  innate 
unselfishness,  sweet  kindliness  and  tact.  Of  the  first 
meeting  of  these  two  remarkable  women  Madame  Reca- 
mier says :  "  That  day  was  an  epoch  in  my  life." 


414  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

On  the  banishment  of  Madame  de  Stael,  Madame 
Recamier  risked  the  displeasure  of  Napoleon  in  order  to 
visit  her  friend,  for  which  action  she  also  was  banished. 
During  this  sad  period  the  two  kept  up  an  incessant  cor- 
respondence.  On  one  occasion,  after  receiving  a  present 
from  her  "dear  Juliette,"  Madame  de  Stael  writes: 
"Dear  friend,  how  this  dress  has  touched  me !  I  shall 
wear  it  on  Tuesday  in  taking  leave  of  the  court.  I  shall 
tell  everybody  that  it  is  a  gift  from  you,  and  shall  make 
all  the  men  sigh  that  it  is  not  you  who  are  wearing  it." 

Again  she  writes  from  Blois:  "Dear  Juliette — Our 
stay  here  is  drawing  to  a  close.  I  cannot  conceive  of 
either  country  or  home  life  without  you.  I  know  that 
certain  sentiments  seem  to  be  more  necessary  to  me  ;  but 
I  also  know  that  everything  falls  to  pieces  when  you 
leave."  In  another  letter  she  says :  "Your  friendship 
is  like  the  spring  in  the  desert  that  never  fails ;  and  it  is 
this  which  makes  it  impossible  not  to  love  you." 

That  Madame  de  Stael' s  estimate  of  her  friend  was  cor- 
rect, subsequent  events  most  unmistakably  demonstrated. 
Dea.th  only  ended  this  beautiful  attachment.  The  devo- 
tion of  Madame  Recamier  to  ths  memory  of  the  illustri- 
ous author,  and  her  efforts  to  disseminate  her  writings 
were  not  less  earnest  and  genuine  than  had  been  her 
affection  for  her  living  friend. 

The  fascination  of  this  delightful  subject  might  make 
one,  like  the  brook,  "go  on  forever,"  were  it  not  fora 
wholesome  fear  of  readers  less  enthusiastic  on  this  point 
than  the  writer.  But  certainly  examples  similar  to  the 
foregoing  might  be  multiplied  to  fill  volumes.  How 
much  might  be  said  of  such  pairs  of  Mends  as  Elizabeth 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  WOMEN.  415 

Barrett  Browning  and  Mary  Mitford,  Joanna  Baillie  and 
Miss  Aiken,  Mrs.  Hemans  and  Miss  Jewsbury,  Madame 
Swetchirn  and  Romandra  Stourdza,  Margaret  Fuller  and 
the  Marchioness  Arconati,  L.  Maria  Child  and  Lucy 
Osgood,  and  Sarah  Austin  and  the  Duchess  of  Orleans. 
It  seems  as  if  each  and  every  one  of  these  said  to  us : 
"Dear  sister  woman,  you  cannot  afford  to  do  without 
such  a  necessity  as  a  true,  devoted  friend.  You  cannot 
afford  to  forego  the  uplifting  of  soul,  the  broadening 
and  sweetening  of  your  life,  which  such  an  experience 
brings.  They  who  are  forever  sufficient  unto  themselves 
must  be  either  gods  or  fiends ;  they  are  not  human.  The 
most  shrinking,  sensitive  temperament  that  shuns  all 
social  life  has  need  of  one  friend,  as  Michael  Angelo  had 
of  Vittoria  Colonna.  Do  not  expect  perfection,  but 
cover  small  faults  with  the  mantle  of  sweet  charity,  and 
don' t  lift  up  the  corner  of  the  mantle  to  see  if  they  are 
still  thriving ;  search,  search,  search  for  what  is  nobler. 
As  elevating  and  beautiful  as  are  these  friendships  we 
have  been  considering,  be  sure  that  one  breath  of  envy, 
petty  spite,  narrowness,  or  uncharitableness  would  have 
killed  them  as  dead  as  an  Easter  lily  under  the  hot  blast 
of  the  desert.  "  Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns  ?" 

—ALICE  E.  IVES. 


OWARDS  civilization  society  moves 
slowly,  but  when  we  compare  epochs 
half  a  century,  or  even  quarter  of  a 
century  ,:part,  we  perceive  many  signs 
that  progress  is  made.  Among  these 
pleasant  indications  is  the  fact  that 
the  phrase  "  old  maid  "  has  gone  well  nigh 
out  of  fashion ;  that  jests  on  the  subject 
are  no  longer  considered  witty,  and  are 
never  uttered  by  gentlemen.  In  my  youth, 
I  not  unfrequently  heard  women  of  thirty 
addressed  in  this  style:  "What,  not  mar- 
ried yet  ?  If  you  don' t  take  care,  you  will 
outstand  your  market."  Such  words  could 
never  be  otherwise  than  disagreeable,  nay, 
positively  offensive,  to  any  woman  of  sensibility  and  nat- 
ural refinement;  and  that  not  merely  on  account  of 
wounded  vanity,  or  disappointed  affection,  or  youthful 
visions  receding  in  the  distance,  but  because  the  idea  of 
being  in  the  market,  of  being  a  commodity,  rather  than 
an  individual,  is  odious  to  every  human  being. 

I  believe  a  large  proportion  of  unmarried  women  are 
so  simply  because  they  have  too  much  conscience  and 

416 


ITNMAKRIED   WOMEN.  417 

delicacy  of  feeling  to  form  marriages  of  interest  or  con- 
venience, without  the  concurrence  of  their  affections  and 
their  taste.  A  woman  who  is  determined  to  be  married, 
and  who  "plays  her  cards  well,"  as  the  phrase  is,  usually 
succeeds.  But  how  much  more  estimable  and  honorable 
is  she  who  regards  a  life-union  as  too  important  and 
sacred  to  be  entered  into  from  motives  of  vanity  or 
selfishness. 

To  rear  families  is  the  ordination  of  Nature,  and  where 
it  is  done  conscientiously  it  is  doubtless  the  best  educa- 
tion that  men  or  women  can  receive.  But  I  doubt  the 
truth  of  the  common  remark  that  the  discharge  of  these 
duties  makes  married  people  less  selfish  than  unmarried 
ones.  The  selfishness  of  single  women  doubtless  shows 
itself  in  more  petty  forms ;  such  as  being  disturbed  by 
crumbs  on  the  carpet,  and  a  litter  of  toys  about  the 
house.  But  fathers  and  mothers  are  often  selfish  on  a 
large  scale,  for  the  sake  of  advancing  the  worldly  pros- 
perity or  social  condition  of  their  children.  Not  only  is 
spiritual  growth  frequently  sacrificed  in  pursuit  of  these 
objects,  but  principles  are  tramplel  on,  which  involve 
the  welfare  of  the  whole  human  race.  Within  the  sphere 
of  my  own  observation,  I  must  confess  that  there  is  a 
larger  proportion  of  unmarried  than  married  women 
whose  sympathies  are  active  and  extensive. 

I  have  before  my  mind  two  learned  sisters,  familiar 
with  Greek,  Latin,  and  French,  and  who,  late  in  life, 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  German  also.  They  spent  more 
than  sixty  years  together,  quietly  digging  out  gold,  sil- 
ver, or  iron  from  the  rich  mines  of  ancient  and  modern 


418  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

literature,  and  freely  imparting  their  treasures  wherever 
they  were  called  for.  No  married  couple  could  have  been 
more  careful  of  each  other  in  illness,  or  more  accom- 
modating toward  each  other's  peculiarities;  yet  they 
were  decided  individuals ;  and  their  talk  never  wanted 

"  An  animated  No, 
To  brush  its  surface,  and  to  make  it  flow." 

Cultivated  people  enjoyed  their  conversation,  which  was 
both  wise  and  racy ;  a  steady  light  of  good  sense  and 
large  information,  with  an  occasional  flashing  rocket  of 
not  ill-natured  satire.  Yet  their  intellectual  acquisitions 
produced  no  contempt  for  the  customary  occupations  of 
women.  All  their  friends  received  tasteful  keepsakes  of 
their  knitting,  netting,  or  crocheting,  and  all  the  poor  of 
the  town  had  garments  of  their  handiwork.  Neither 
their  sympathies  nor  their  views  were  narrowed  by  celi- 
bacy. Early  education  had  taught  them  to  reverence 
everything  that  was  established  ;  but  with  this  reverence 
they  mingled  a  lively  interest  in  all  the  great  progressive 
questions  of  the  day.  Their  ears  were  open  to  the  recital 
of  everybody's  troubles  and  everybody's  joys.  On  New 
Year's  day,  children  thronged  round  them  for  books  and 
toys,  and  every  poor  person's  face  lighted  up  as  they 
approached ;  for  they  were  sure  of  kindly  inquiries  and 
sympathizing  words  from  them,  and  their  cloaks  usually 
opened  to  distribute  comfortable  slippers,  or  warm  stock- 
ings of  their  own  manufacture.  When  this  sisterly  bond, 
rendered  so  beautiful  by  usefulness  and  culture,  was 
dissolved  by  death,  the  survivor  said  of  her  who  had 
departed:  "During  all  her  illness  she  leaned  upon  me  as 


UNMARRIED   WOMEN.  419 

a  child  upon  its  mother ;  and  O,  how  blessed  is  now  the 
consciousness  that  I  never  disappointed  her!"  This 
great  bereavement  was  borne  with  calmness,  for  loneliness 
was  cheered  by  hope  of  reunion.  On  the  anniversary  of 
her  loss  the  survivor  wrote  to  me :  "I  find  a  growing 
sense  of  familiarity  with  the  unseen  world.  It  is  as  if 
the  door  were  invitingly  left  ajar,  and  the  distance  were 
hourly  diminishing.  I  never  think  of  Tier  as  alone.  The 
unusual  number  of  departed  friends  for  whom  we  had 
recently  mourned  seem  now  but  an  increase  to  her  hap- 
piness." 

I  had  two  other  unmarried  friends,  as  devoted  to  each 
other,  and  as  considerate  oJ  each  other's  peculiarities  as 
any  wedded  couple  I  ever  knew.  Without  being  learned, 
they  had  a  love  of  general  reading,  which,  with  active 
charities,  made  their  days  pass  profitably  and  pleasantly. 
They  had  the  orderly,  systematic  habits  common  to  single 
ladies,  but  their  sympathies  and  their  views  were  larger 
and  more  liberal  than  those  of  their  married  sisters. 
Their  fingers  were  busy  for  the  poor,  whom  they  were 
always  ready  to  aid  and  comfort,  irrespective  of  nation 
or  color.  Their  family  affections  were  remarkably  strong, 
yet  they  had  the  moral  courage  to  espouse  the  unpopular 
cause  of  the  slave,  in  quiet  opposition  to  the  prejudices 
of  beloved  relatives.  Death  sundered  this  tie  when  both 
were  advanced  in  years.  The  departed  one,  though  not 
distinguished  for  beauty  during  her  mortal  life,  had, 
after  her  decease,  a  wonderful  loveliness,  like  that  of  an 
angelic  child.  It  was  the  outward  impress  of  her  inte- 
rior life. 

Few  marriages  are  more  beautiful  or  more  happy  than 


420 


WHAT   CAIST   A   WOMAN   DO. 


these  sisterly  unions ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  a 
brother  and  sister,  whose  lives  are  bound  together.  All 
lovers  of  English  literature  know  how  charmingly  united 
in  mind  and  heart  were  Charles  Lamb  and  his  gifted 
sister ;  and  our  own  poet,  Whittier,  so  dear  to  the  peo- 
ple' s  heart,  has  a  home  made  lovely  by  the  same  fraternal 
relation  of  mutual  love  and  dependence. 

A  dear  friend  of  mine,  whom  it  was  some  good  man's 
loss  not  to  have  for  a  life-mate,  adopted  the  orphan  sons 
of  her  brother,  and  reared  them  with  more  than  parental 
wisdom  and  tenderness,  caring  for  all  their  physical 
wants,  guiding  them  through  precept  and  example  by  the 
most  elevated  moral  standard,  bestowing  on  them  the 
highest  intellectual  culture,  and  studying  all  branches 
with  them,  that  she  might  in  all  things  be  their  com- 
panion. 

Nor  is  it  merely  in  such  connections,  which  somewhat 
resemble  wedded  life,  that  single  women  make  themselves 
useful  and  respected.  Many  remember  the  store  kept 
for  so  long  a  time  in  Boston  by  Miss  Ann  Bent. 

Her  parents  being  poor,  she  early  began  to  support 
herself  by  teaching.  A  relative  subsequently  furnished 
her  with  goods  to  sell  on  commission ;  and  in  this  new 
employment  she  manifested  such  good  judgment,  integ- 
rity, and  general  business  capacity,  that  merchants  were 
willing  to  trust  her  to  any  extent.  She  acquired  a  hand- 
some property,  which  she  used  liberally  to  assist  a  large 
family  of  sisters  and  nieces,  some  of  whom  she  established 
in  business  similar  to  her  own.  No  mother  or  grand- 
mother was  ever  more  useful  or  beloved.  One  of  her 
nieces  said :  *  *  I  know  the  beauty  and  purity  of  my  aunt' s 


UNMARRIED   WOMEN.  421 

character,  for  I  lived  with  her  forty  years,  and  I  never 
knew  her  to  say  or  do  anything  which  might  not  have 
been  said  or  done  before  the  whole  world." 

I  am  ignorant  of  the  particulars  of  Miss  Bent's  private 
history ;  but  doubtless  a  woman  of  her  comely  looks, 
agreeable  manners,  and  excellent  character,  might  have 
found  opportunities  to  marry,  if  that  had  been  a  para- 
mount object  with  her.  She  lived  to  be  more  than 
eighty-eight  years  old,  universally  respected  and  beloved ; 
and  the  numerous  relatives,  toward  whom  she  had  per- 
formed a  mother's  part,  cheered  her  old  age  with  grateful 
affection. 

There  have  also  been  instances  of  single  women  who 
have  enlivened  and  illustrated  their  lives  by  devotion  to 
the  beautiful  arts.  Of  these  none  are  perhaps  more  cele- 
brated than  the  Italian  Sofonisba  Angusciola  and  her 
two  accomplished  sisters.  These  three  "virtuous  gentle- 
women," as  Yasari  calls  them,  spent  their  lives  together 
in  most  charming  union.  All  of  them  had  uncommon 
talent  for  painting,  but  Sofonisba  was  the  most  gifted. 
One  of  her  most  beautiful  pictures  represents  her  two 
sisters  playing  at  chess,  attended  by  the  faithful  old 
duenna,  who  accompanied  them  everywhere.  This  admir- 
able artist  lived  to  be  old  and  blind  ;  and  the  celebrated 
Vandyke  said  of  her,  in  her  later  years :  "I  have  learned 
more  from  one  blind  old  woman  in  Italy,  than  from  all 
the  masters  of  the  art." 

Many  single  women  have  also  employed  their  lives 
usefully  and  agreeably  as  authors.  There  is  the  charm- 
ing Miss  Mitford,  whose  writings  cheer  the  soul  like  a 
meadow  of  cowslips  in  the  springtime.  There  is  Fred- 


422  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

erica  Bremer,  whose  writings  have  blessed  so  many  souls. 
There  is  Joanna  Baillie,  Maria  Edgeworth,  Elizabeth 
Hamilton,  and  our  own  honored  Catherine  M.  Sedgwick, 
whose  books  have  made  the  world  wiser  and  better 
than  they  found  it. 

I  am  glad  to  be  sustained  in  my  opinions  on  this  sub- 
ject by  a  friend  whose  own  character  invests  single  life 
with  peculiar  dignity.  In  a  letter  to  me,  she  says :  "I 
object  to  having  single  women  called  a  class.  They  are 
individuals,  differing  in  the  qualities  of  their  characters, 
like  otner  numan  beings.  Their  isolation,  as  a  general 
thing,  is  the  result  of  unavoidable  circumstances.  The 
Author  of  Nature  doubtless  intended  that  men  and 
women  should  live  together.  But,  in  the  present  state 
of  the  world's  progress,  society  has,  in  many  respects, 
become  artificial  in  proportion  to  its  civilization ;  and 
consequently  the  number  of  single  women  must  con- 
stantly increase.  If  humanity  were  in  a  state  of  natural, 
healthy  development,  this  would  not  be  so ;  for  young 
people  would  then  be  willing  to  begin  married  life  with 
simplicity  and  frugality,  and  real  happiness  would 
increase  in  proportion  to  the  diminution  of  artificial 
wants.  This  prospect,  however,  lies  in  the  future,  and 
many  generations  of  single  women  must  come  and  go 
before  it  will  be  realized. 

"But  the  achievement  of  character  is  the  highest  end 
that  can  be  proposed  to  any  human  being,  and  there  is 
nothing  in  single  life  to  prevent  a  woman  from  attaining 
this  great  object ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  in  many  respects 
peculiarly  favorable  to  it.  The  measure  of  strength  in 
character  is  the  power  to  conquer  circumstances  when 


TJNMAKEIED   WOMEN".  423 

they  refuse  to  co-operate  with  us.  The  temptations 
peculiarly  incident  to  single  life  are  petty  selfishness, 
despondency  under  the  suspicion  of  neglect,  and  ennui 
from  the  want  of  interesting  occupation.  If  an  ordinary, 
feeble-minded  woman  is  exposed  to  these  temptations, 
she  will  be  very  likely  to  yield  to  them.  But  she  would 
not  be  greatly  different  in  character,  if  protected  by  a 
husband  and  flanked  with  children ;  her  feebleness  Would 
remain  the  same,  and  would  only  manifest  itself  under 
new  forms. 

"Marriage,  under  favorable  circumstances,  is  unques- 
tionably a  promoter  of  human  happiness.  But  mistakes 
are  so  frequently  made  by  entering  thoughtlessly  into 
this  indissoluble  connection,  and  so  much  wretchedness 
ensues  from  want  of  sufficient  mental  discipline  to  make 
the  best  of  what  cannot  be  remedied,  that  most  people 
can  discover  among  their  acquaintance  as  large  a  propor- 
tion of  happy  single  women  as  they  can  of  happy  wives. 
Moreover,  the  happiness  of  unmarried  women  is  as  inde- 
pendent of  mere  gifts  of  fortune,  as  that  of  other  indi- 
viduals. Indeed,  all  solid  happiness  must  spring  from 
inward  sources.  Some  of  the  most  truly  contented  and 
respectable  women  I  have  ever  known  have  been  domes- 
tics, who  grew  old  in  one  family,  and  were  carefully 
looked  after,  in  their  declining  days,  by  the  children  of 
those  whom  they  faithfully  served  in  youth. 

"Most  single  women  might  have  married,  had  they 
seized  upon  the  first  opportunity  that  offered;  but  some 
unrevealed  attachment,  too  high  an  ideal,  or  an  innate 
fastidiousness,  have  left  them  solitary ;  therefore,  it  is 
fair  to  assume  that  many  of  them  have  more  sensibility 


424  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

and  true  tenderness  than  some  of  their  married  sisters. 
Those  who  remain  single  in  consequence  of  two  much 
worldly  ambition,  or  from  the  gratification  of  coquettish 
vanity,  naturally  swell  the  ranks  of  those  peevish,  dis-' 
contented  ones,  who  bring  discredit  on  single  life  in  the 
abstract.  But  when  a  delicate  gentlewoman  deliberately 
prefers  passing  through  life  alone,  to  linking  her  fate 
with  that  of  a  man  toward  whom  she  feels  no  attraction, 
why  should  she  ever  repent  of  so  high  an  exercise  of  her 
reason?  This  class  of  women  are  often  the  brightest 
ornaments  of  society.  Men  find  in  them  calm,  thought- 
ful friends,  and  safe  confidants,  on  whose  sympathy  they 
can  rely  without  danger.  In  the  nursery,  their  labors, 
being  voluntary,  are  less  exhausting  than  a  parent's. 
When  the  weary,  fretted  mother  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the 
twenty-times-repeated  question,  the  baifled  urchins  re- 
treat to  the  indulgent  aunt,  or  dear  old  familiar  friend, 
sure  of  obtaining  a  patient  hearing  and  a  kind  response. 
Almost  everybody  can  remember  some  samples  of  sucli 
Penates,  whose  hearts  seem  to  be  too  large  to  be  con- 
fined to  any  one  set  of  children. 

"  Some  of  my  fairest  patterns  of  feminine  excellence 
have  been  of  the  single  sisterhood.  Of  those  unfortu- 
nate ones  who  are  beacons,  rather  than  models,  I  cannot 
recall  an  individual  whose  character  I  think  would  have 
been  materially  improved  by  marriage.  The  faults  which 
make  a  single  woman  disagreeable  would  probably  exist 
to  the  same  degree  if  she  were  a  wife ;  and  the  virtues 
which  adorn  her  in  a  state  of  celibacy  would  make  her 
equally  beloved  and  honored  if  she  were  married.  The 
human  soul  is  placed  here  for  development  and  progress ; 


UNMARRIED   WOMEN.  425 

and  it  is  capable  of  converting  all  circumstances  into 
means  of  growth  and  advancement. 

"Among  my  early  recollections  is  that  of  a  lady  of 
stately  presence,  who  died  while  I  was  still  young,  but 
not  till  she  had  done  much  to  remove  from  my  mind  the 
idea  that  the  name  of  '  old  maid '  was  a  term  of  reproach. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Judge  Russell,  and  aunt  to  the 
late  Reverend  and  beloved  Dr.  Lowell.  She  had  been 
one  of  a  numerous  family  of  brothers  and  sisters,  but  in 
my  childhood  was  sole  possessor  of  the  old  family  man- 
sion, where  she  received  her  friends  and  practiced  those 
virtues  which  gained  for  her  the  respect  of  the  whole 
community.  Sixty  years  ago  it  was  customary  to  speak 
of  single  women  with  far  less  deference  than  it  now  is ; 
and  I  remember  being  puzzled  by  the  extremely  respect- 
ful manner  in  which  she  was  always  mentioned.  If 
there  were  difficulties  in  the  parish,  or  if  any  doubtful 
matters  were  under  discussion,  the  usual  question  was 
'What  is  Miss  Russell's  opinion?'  I  used  to  think  to 
myself,  '  She  is  an  old  maid,  after  all,  yet  people  always 
speak  of  her  as  if  she  were  some  great  person.' 

"  Miss  Burleigh  was  another  person  of  whom  I  used  to 
hear  much  through  the  medium  of  mutual  friends.  She 
resided  with  a  married  sister  in  Salem,  and  was  the  '  dear 
Aunt  Susan,'  not  only  of  the  large  circle  of  her  own 
nephews  and  nieces,  but  of  all  their  friends  and  favor- 
ites. Having  ample  means,  she  surrounded  herself  with 
choice  books  and  pictures,  and  such  objects  of  art  or 
nature  as  would  entertain  and  instruct  young  minds. 
Her  stores  of  knowledge  were  prodigious,  and  she  had 
such  a  happy  way  of  imparting  it,  that  lively  boys  were 


426  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

glad  to  leave  their  play,  to  spend  an  hour  with  Aunt 
Susan.  She  read  to  her  young  friends  at  stated  times, 
and  made  herself  perfectly  familiar  with  them ;  and  as 
they  grew  older  she  became  their  chosen  confidant.  She 
was,  in  fact,  such  a  centre  of  light  and  warmth,  that  no 
one  could  approach  her  sphere  without  being  conscious 
of  its  vivifying  influence. 

"  'Aunt  Sarah  Stetson,'  another  single  lady,  was  a 
dear  and  honored  friend  of  my  own.  She  was  of  mascu- 
line size  and  stature,  gaunt  and  ungainly  in  the  extreme. 
But  before  she  had  uttered  three  sentences,  her  hearers 
said  to  themselves,  *  Here  is  a  wise  woman  ! '  She  was 
the  oldest  of  thirteen  children,  early  deprived  of  their 
father,  and  she  bore  the  brunt  of  life  from  youth  upward. 
She  received  only  such  education  as  was  afforded  by  the 
public  school  of  an  obscure  town  seventy  years  ago.  To 
add  to  their  scanty  means  of  subsistence,  she  learned  the 
tailor's  trade.  In  process  of  time,  the  other  children 
swarmed  off  from  the  parental  hive,  the  little  farm  was 
sold,  and  she  lived  alone  with  her  mother.  She  built  a 
small  cottage  out  of  her  own  earnings,  and  had  the 
sacred  pleasure  of  taking  her  aged  parent  to  her  own 
home,  and  ministering  with  her  own  hands  to  all  her 
wants.  For  sixteen  years  she  never  spent  a  night  from 
home,  but  assiduously  devoted  herself  to  the  discharge 
of  this  filial  duty,  and  to  the  pursuance  of  her  trade. 
Yet  in  the  midst  of  this  busy  life,  she  managed  to  become 
respectably  familiar  with  English  literature,  especially 
with  history.  Whatever  she  read,  she  derived  from  it 
healthful  aliment  for  the  growth  of  her  mental  powers. 
She  was  full  of  wise  maxims  and  rules  of  life  ;  not  doled 


UNMARRIED   WOMEN.  427 

out  with  see-saw  prosiness,  but  with  strong  common 
sense,  rich  and  racy,  and  frequently  flavored  with  the 
keenest  satire.  She  had  a  flashing  wit,  and  wonderful 
power  of  detecting  shams  of  all  sorts.  Her  religious 
opinions  were  orthodox,  and  she  was  an  embodiment  of 
the  Puritan  character.  She  was  kindly  in  her  feelings, 
and  alive  to  every  demonstration  of  affection,  but  she 
had  a  granite  firmness  of  principle,  which  rendered  her 
awful  toward  deceivers  and  transgressors.  All  the  intel- 
lectual people  of  the  town  sought  her  company  with 
avidity.  The  Unitarian  minister  and  his  family,  a 
wealthy  man,  who  happened  to  be  also  the  chief  scholar 
in  the  place,  and  the  young  people  generally,  took  pleas- 
ure in  resorting  to  Aunt  Sarah's  humble  home,  to  minis- 
ter to  her  simple  wants,  and  gather  up  her  words  of 
wisdom.  Her  spirit  was  bright  and  cheerful  to  the  last. 
One  of  her  sisters,  who  had  been  laboring  sixteen  years 
as  a  missionary  among  the  southwestern  Indians,  came 
to  New  England  to  visit  the  scattered  members  of  her 
family.  After  seeing  them  in  their  respective  homes, 
she  declared  :  '  Sarah  is  the  most  light-hearted  of  them 
all ;  and  it  is  only  by  Tier  fireside  that  I  have  been  able  to 
forget  past  hardships  in  merry  peals  of  laughter.' 

"During  my  last  interview  with  Aunt  Sarah,  when  she 
was  past  seventy  years  of  age,  she  said,  'I  have  lived 
very  agreeably  single ;  but  if  I  become  infirm,  I  suppose 
I  shall  feel  the  want  of  life's  nearest  ties.'  In  her  case, 
however,  the  need  was  of  short  duration,  and  an  affec- 
tionate niece  supplied  the  place  of  a  daughter. 

"Undoubtedly,  the  arms  of  children  and  grandchil- 
dren form  the  most  natural  and  beautiful  cradle  for  old 


428  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

age.  But  loneliness  is  often  the  widow' s-  portion,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  single  woman  ;  and  parents  are  often  left 
solitary  by  the  death  or  emigration  of  their  children. 

"lam  tempted  to  speak  also  of  a  living  friend,  now 
past  her  sixtieth  year.  She  is  different  from  the  others, 
but  this  difference  only  confirms  my  theory  that  the 
mind  can  subdue  all  things  to  itself.  This  lady  is  strictly 
feminine  in  all  her  habits  and  pursuits,  and  regards  the 
needle  as  the  chief  implement  of  woman's  usefulness.  If 
the  Dorcas  labors  performed  by  her  one  pair  of  hands 
could  be  collected  into  a  mass,  out  of  the  wear  and  waste 
of  half  a  century,  they  would  form  an  amazing  pile.  In 
former  years,  when  her  health  allowed  her  to  circulate 
among  numerous  family  connections,  her  visits  were 
always  welcomed  as  a  jubilee;  for  every  dilapidated 
wardrobe  was  sure  to  be  renovated  by  Aunt  Mary's  nim- 
ble fingers.  She  had  also  a  magic  power  of  drawing  the 
little  ones  to  herself.  Next  to  their  fathers  and  mothers, 
she  was  the  best  beloved.  The  influence  which  her  lov- 
ing heart  gained  over  them  in  childhood  increased  with 
advancing  years.  She  is  now  the  best  and  dearest  friend 
of  twenty  or  thirty  nephews  and  nieces,  some  of  whom 
have  families  of  their  own. 

"A  large  amount  of  what  is  termed  mother- wit,  a 
readiness  at  repartee,  and  quickness  in  seizing  unex- 
pected associations  of  words  or  ideas,  rendered  her  gen- 
erally popular  in  company  ;  but  the  deep  cravings  of  her 
heart  could  never  be  satisfied  with  what  is  termed  success 
in  society.  The  intimate  love  of  a  few  valued  friends 
was  what  she  always  coveted,  and  never  failed  to  win. 
For  several  years  she  has  been  compelled  by  ill  health  to 


UNMAERIED   WOMEN.  429 

live  entirely  at  home.  There  she  now  is,  fulfilling  the  most 
important  mission  of  her  whole  beneficent  life,  training 
to  virtue  and  usefulness  five  motherless  children  of  her 
brother.  Feeble  and  emaciated,  she  lives  in  her  cham- 
ber surrounded  by  these  orphans,  who  now  constitute 
her  chief  hold  on  life.  She  shares  all  their  pleasures,  is 
the  depositary  of  their  little  griefs,  and  unites  in  herself 
the  relations  of  aunt,  mother,  and  grandmother.  She 
has  faith  to  believe  that  her  frail  thread  of  existence  will 
be  prolonged  for  the  sake  of  these  little  ones.  The  world 
still  comes  to  her,  in  her  seclusion,  through  a  swarm  of 
humble  friends  and  dependents,  who  find  themselves 
comforted  and  ennobled  by  the  benignant  patience  with 
which  she  listens  to  their  various  experiences,  and  gives 
them  kindly,  sympathizing  counsel,  more  valuable  to 
them  than  mere  pecuniary  aid.  Her  spirit  of  self-abne- 
gation is  carried  almost  to  asceticism ;  but  she  reserves 
lier  severity  wholly  for  herself ;  toward  others  she  is 
prodigal  of  indulgence.  This  goodly  temple  of  a  human 
soul  was  reared  in  these  fair  proportions  upon  a  founda- 
tion of  struggles,  disappointments,  and  bereavements. 
A  friend  described  her  serene  exterior  as  a  'placid, 
ocean-deep  manner'  ;  under  it  lies  a  silent  history  of 
trouble  and  trial,  converted  into  spiritual  blessings. 

"The  conclusion  of  the  matter  in  my  mind  is,  that  a 
woman  may  make  a  respectable  appearance  as  a  wife, 
with  a  character  far  less  noble  than  is  necessary  to  ena- 
ble her  to  lead  a  single  life  with  usefulness  and  dignity. 
She  is  sheltered  and  concealed  behind  her  husband  ;  but 
the  unmarried  woman  must  rely  upon  herself ;  and  she 
lives  in  a  glass  house,  open  to  the  gaze  of  every  passer-by. 


r 


430 

To  the  feeble-minded,  marriage  is  almost  a  necessity,  and 
if  wisely  formed  it  doubtless  renders  the  life  of  any 
woman  more  happy.  But  happiness  is  not  the  sole  end 
and  aim  of  this  life.  We  are  sent  here  to  build  up  a 
character;  and  sensible  women  may  easily  reconcile 
themselves  to  a  single  life,  since  even  its  disadvantages 
may  be  converted  into  means  of  development  of  all  the 
faculties  with  which  God  has  endowed  them." 

— L.  MARIA  CHILD. 


EPITAPH  ON  THE  UNMATED. 


No  chosen  spot  of  ground  she  called  her  own. 
In  pilgrim  guise  o'er  earth  she  wandered  on  ; 
Yet  always  in  her  path  some  flowers  were  strown. 
No  dear  ones  were  her  own  peculiar  care, 
So  was  her  bounty  free  as  heaven's  air ; 
For  every  claim  she  had  enough  to  spare. 
And,  loving  more  her  heart  to  give  than  lend, 
Though  oft  deceived  in  many  a  trusted  friend. 
She  hoped,  believed,  and  trusted  to  the  end. 
She  had  her  joys  ; — 't  was  joy  to  her  to  love, 
To  labor  in  the  world  with  God  above, 
And  tender  hearts  that  ever  near  did  move. 
She  had  her  griefs  ; — but  they  left  peace  behind, 
And  healing  came  on  every  stormy  wind, 
And  still  with  silver  every  cloud  was  lined. 
And  every  loss  sublimed  some  low  desire, 
And  every  sorrow  taught  her  to  aspire, 
Till  waiting  angels  bade  her  "  Go  up  higher." 


a  * 


f*  Cu 


artjecij. 


F  this  latent  power  could  be  aroused ! 
If  woman  would  shake  off  this  slum- 
ber, and  put  on  her  strength,  her 
beautiful  garments,  how  would  she 
go  forth  conquering  and  to  con- 
quer !     How  would  the  mountains 
break  forth  into  singing,  and  the  trees  of  the 
field  clap  their  hands  !     How  would  our  sin- 
stained  earth  arise  and  shine,  her  light  being 
come,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  being  risen 
upon  her ! 

One  cannot  do  the  world's  work;  but  one 
can  do  one's  work.  You  may  not  be  able  to 
turn  the  world  from  iniquity  ;  but  you  can,  at 
least,  keep  the  dust  and  rust  from  gathering 
on  your  own  soul.  If  you  cannot  be  directly  and  act- 
ively engaged  in  fighting  the  battle,  you  can,  at  least, 
polish  your  armor  and  sharpen  your  weapons,  to  strike 
an  effective  blow  when  the  hour  comes.  You  can  stanch 
the  blood  of  him  who  has  been  wounded  in  the  fray — 
bear  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  thirsty  and  fainting— give 
help  to  the  conquered,  and  smiles  to  the  victor. 
You  can  gather  from  the  past  and  the  present,  stores  of 


432  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

wisdom,  so  that,  when  the  future  demands  it,  you  may 
bring  forth  from  your  treasures  things  new  and  old. 
Whatever  of  bliss  the  "Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends" 
may  see  fit  to  withhold  from  you,  you  are  but  very  little 
lower  than  the  angels,  so  long  as  you  have  the 

"  Godlike  power  to  do — the  godlike  aim  to  know." 

You  can  be  forming  habits  of  self-reliance,  sound 
judgment,  perseverance,  and  endurance,  which  may,  one 
day,  stand  you  in  good  stead.  You  can  so  train  your- 
self to  right  thinking  and  right  acting,  that  uprightness 
shall  be  your  nature,  truth  your  impulse.  His  head  is 
seldom  far  wrong,  whose  heart  is  always  right.  We 
bow  down  to  mental  greatness,  intellectual  strength,  and 
they  are  divine  gifts ;  but  moral  rectitude  is  stronger 
than  they.  It  is  irresistible — always  in  the  end  tri- 
umphant. 

There  is  in  goodness  a  penetrative  power  that  nothing 
can  withstand.  Cunning  and  malice  melt  away  before 
its  mild,  open,  steady  glance.  Not  alone  on  the  fields 
where  chivalry  charges  for  laurels,  with  helmet  and 
breastplate  and  lance  in  rest,  can  the  true  knight  exult- 
ingly  exclaim, 

"  My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 
Because  my  heart  is  pure  ;" 

but  wherever  man  meets  man,  wherever  there  is  a  prize 
to  be  won,  a  goal  to  be  reached.  Wealth,  and  rank,  and 
beauty,  may  form  a  brilliant  setting  to  the  diamond  ;  but 
they  only  expose  more  nakedly  the  false  glare  of  the 
paste.  Only  when  the  king's  daughter  is  all  glorious 


DUTIES   AND   RESPONSIBILITIES   OF   WOMAN.          433 

within,  is  it  fitting  and  proper  that  her  clothing  should 
be  of  wrought  gold. 

From  the  great  and  good  of  all  ages  rings  out  the  same 
monotone.  The  high-priest  of  Nature,  the  calm-eyed 
poet  who  laid  his  heart  so  close  to  hers,  that  they  seemed 
to  throb  in  one  pulsation,  yet  whose  ear  was  always  open 
to  the  "still  sad  music  of  humanity,"  has  given  us  the 
promise  of  his  life-long  wisdom  in  these  grand  words : 

"  True  dignity  abides  with  him  alone 
Who,  in  the  silent  hour  of  inward  thought, 
Can  still  suspect  and  still  revere  himself." 

Through  the  din  of  twenty  rolling  centuries,  pierces 
the  sharp,  stern  voice  of  the  brave  old  Greek:  "Let 
every  man,  when  he  is  about  to  do  a  wicked  action, 
above  all  things  in  the  world,  stand  in  awe  of  himself, 
and  dread  the  witness  within  him."  All  greatness,  and 
all  glory,  all  that  earth  has  to  give,  all  that  Heaven  can 
proffer,  lies  within  the  reach  of  the  lowliest  as  well  as  the 
highest ;  for  He  who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  has  said 
that  the  very  "kingdom  of  God  is  within  you." 

Born  to  such  an  inheritance,  will  you  wantonly  cast  it 
away?  With  such  a  goal  in  prospect,  will  you  suffer 
yourself  to  be  turned  aside  by  the  sheen  and  shimmer  of 
tinsel  fruit  ?  With  earth  in  possession,  and  Heaven  in 
reversion,  will  you  go  sorrowing  and  downcast,  because 
here  and  there  a  pearl  or  a  ruby  fails  you  ?  Nay,  rather 
forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching 
forth  unto  those  which  are  before,  press  forward  ! 

Discontent  and  murmuring  are  insidious  foes ;  trample 
them  under  your  feet,  Utter  no  complaint,  whatever 

•8 


434  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

betide ;  for  complaining  is  a  sign  of  weakness.  If  your 
trouble  can  be  helped,  help  it ;  if  not,  bear  it.  You  can 
be  whatever  you  will  to  be.  Therefore,  form  and  accom- 
plish worthy  purposes. 

If  you  walk  alone,  let  it  be  with  no  faltering  tread. 
Show  to  an  incredulous  world 

"  How  grand  may  be  Life's  might, 
Without  Love's  circling  crown." 

Or,  if  the  golden  thread  of  love  shine  athwart  the 
dusky  warp  of  duty,  if  other  hearts  depend  on  yours  for 
sustenance  and  strength,  give  to  them  from  your  fullness 
no  stinted  measure.  Let  the  dew  of  your  kindness  fall 
on  the  evil  and  the  good,  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust. 

Compass  happiness,  since  happiness  alone  is  victory. 
On  the  fragments  of  your  shattered  plans,  and  hopes, 
and  love — on  the  heaped-up  ruins  of  your  past,  rear  a 
stately  palace,  whose  top  shall  reach  unto  heaven,  whose 
beauty  shall  gladden  the  eyes  of  all  beholders,  whose 
doors  shall  stand  wide  open  to  receive  the  way  worn  and 
weary.  Life  is  a  burden,  but  it  is  imposed  by  God. 
What  you  make  of  it,  it  will  be  to  you,  whether  a  mill- 
stone about  your  neck,  or  a  diadem  upon  your  brow. 
Take  it  up  bravely,  bear  it  on  joyfully,  lay  it  down  tri- 
umphantly. 

—GAIL  HAMILTON. 


on. 


v^ifljouf  ct 


HILE  at  a  station  the  other  day  I 
had  a  little  sermon  preached  in  the 
way  I  like,  and  I'll  report  it  for 
your  benefit,   because  it  taught 
me  one  of  the  lessons  which  we  all 
should  learn,  and  taught  it  in  such  a 


natural,  simple  way  that  no  one  could  forget  it. 
It  was  a  bleak,  snowy  day.  The  train  was 
late  ;  the  ladies'  room  dark  and  smoky,  and  the 
dozen  women,  old  and  young,  who  sat  waiting 
impatiently,  all  looked  cross,  low-spirited,  or 
stupid.  I  felt  all  three,  and  thought,  as  I  looked 
around,  that  my  fellow-beings  were  a  very  un- 
amiable,  uninteresting  set. 
Just  then  a  forlorn  old  woman,  shaking  with  palsy, 
came  in  with  a  basket  of  wares  for  sale,  and  went  about 
mutely  offering  them  to  the  sitters.  Nobody  bought 
anything,  and  the  poor  old  soul  stood  blinking  at  the 
door  a  minute,  as  if  reluctant  to  go  out  into  the  bitter 
storm  again. 

She  turned  presently  and  poked  about  the  room  as  if 
trying  to  find  something ;  and  then  a  pale  lady  in  black, 


436  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

who  lay  as  if  asleep  on  a  sofa,  opened  her  eyes,  saw  the 
old  woman,  and  instantly  asked  in  a  kind  tone,  "Have 
you  lost  anything  ma'am?" 

"No,  dear.  I'm  looking  for  the  heatin'  place  to  have 
a  warm  'fore  I  goes  out  again.  My  eyes  is  poor,  and  I 
don't  seem  to  find  the  furnace  nowheres." 

"Here  it  is;"  and  the  lady  led  her  to  the  steam 
radiator,  placed  a  chair,  and  showed  her  how  to  warm 
her  feet. 

"Well,  now,  is  not  that  nice?"  said  the  old  woman, 
spreading  her  ragged  mittens  to  dry.  ' '  Thank  you,  dear ; 
this  is  comfortable,  isn't  it?  I'm  mos'  froze  to-day,  bein' 
lame  and  wimbly,  and  not  selling  much  makes  me  kind 
of  down-hearted" 

The  lady  smiled,  went  to  the  counter,  bought  a  cup  of 
tea  and  some  sort  of  food,  carried  it  herself  to  the  old 
woman,  and  said  as  respectfully  and  kindly  as  if  the 
poor  woman  had  been  dressed  in  silk  and  fur,  "Won't 
you  have  a  cup  of  hot  tea  ?  It's  very  comforting  such  a 
day  as  this." 

"Sakes  alive!  do  they  give  tea  to  this  depot?"  cried 
the  old  lady  in  a  tone  of  innocent  surprise  that  made  a 
smile  go  round  the  room,  touching  the  gloomiest  face 
like  a  stream  of  sunshine.  "Well,  now,  this  is  jest 
lovely,"  added  the  old  lady,  sipping  away  with  a  relish, 
i "This  does  warm  my  heart." 

While  she  refreshed  herself,  telling  her  story  mean- 
while, the  lady  looked  over  the  poor  little  wares  in  the 
basket,  bought  soap  and  pins,  shoe-strings  and  tape,  and 
cheered  the  old  soul  by  paying  well  for  them. 

As  I  watched  her  doing  this  I  thought  what  a  sweet 


A  SERMON  WITHOUT  A  TEXT.  437 

face  she  had,  though  I'd  considered  her  rather  plain 
before.  I  felt  dreadfully  ashamed  of  myself  that  I  had 
grimly  shaken  my  head  when  the  basket  was  offered  to 
me ;  and  as  I  saw  the  look  of  interest,  sympathy,  and 
kindliness  come  in  to  the  dismal  faces  all  around  me,  I 
did  wish  that  I  had  been  the  magician  to  call  it  out. 

It  was  only  a  kind  word  and  a  friendly  act,  but  some- 
how it  brightened  that  dingy  room  wonderfully.  It 
changed  the  faces  of  a  dozen  women,  and  I  think  it 
touched  a  dozen  hearts,  for  I  saw  many  eyes  follow  the 
plain,  pale  lady  with  sudden  respect ;  and  when  the  old 
woman  got  up  to  go,  several  persons  beckoned  to  her  and 
bought  something,  as  if  they  wanted  to  repair  their  first 
negligence. 

Old  beggar-women  are  not  romantic,  neither  are  cups 
of  tea,  boot-laces  and  colored  soap.  There  were  no  gen- 
tlemen present  to  be  impressed  with  the  lady's  kind  act, 
so  it  wasn't  done  for  effect,  and  no  possible  reward  could 
be  received  for  it  except  the  ungrammatical  thanks  of  a 
ragged  old  woman. 

Bat  that  simple  little  charity  was  as  good  as  a  sermon 
to  those  who  saw  it,  and  I  think  each  traveler  went  on 
her  way  better  for  that  half  hour  in  the  dreary  station. 
I  can  testify  that  one  of  them  did,  and  nothing  but  the 
emptiness  of  her  purse  prevented  her  from  "comforting 
the  heart"  of  every  forlorn  old  woman  she  met  for  a 

week  after. 

-LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT. 


crape  «  \ZZ  aras. 


HREE  of  the  most  beautiful  words 
in  the  English  language,  says  a  writer, 
are   "Mother,    Home  and  Heaven." 
And  truly  they  may  well  be  called  so. 
What  force  upon  the  human  heart 
has  the  word  mother !     Coming  from 
childhood's  lips,  it  has  a  sweet  charm,  for 
it  speaks  of  one  to  whom  they  look  in  trust 
for  protection ;  coming  from  older  lips,  it 
betokens  affection  and  filial  regard. 

A  mother  is  the  truest  friend  we  have  on 
earth.  What  one  like  her  will  cling  to  us, 
and  by  kind  counsels  and  precepts  dissi- 
pate the  clouds  of  darkness,  and  cause 
peace  to  return  to  our  hearts,  when  friends 
who  rejoiced  with  us  in  the  sunshine  of  our  success 
desert  us,  when,  like  a  dense  cloud,  troubles  thicken 
around  us ;  when  prosperity  gives  place  to  adversity ; 
when  trials  suddenly  fall  heavily  upon  us  !  No  voice  is 
so  potent  as  hers  in  reclaiming  an  erring  one  from  the 
path  of  unrighteousness  to  a  life  of  prosperity  and  hap- 
piness. 
Even  the  lonely  convict  in  his  dreary  cell,  though 


THEEE  MAGIO  WOKDS.  439 

other  friends  forsake  him,  finds  consolation  in  thinking 
of  the  innocent  days  of  his  childhood,  when  he  played 
by  his  mother's  knee ;  he  realizes  that  he  has  still  a 
guardian  angel  watching  over  him  who  will  forgive  and 
forget,  however  dark  his  sins  may  have  been. 

What  a  sweet  name  is  mother,  and  what  a  high  station 
she  occupies !  In  her  hands  minds  are  molded  almost 
at  her  will,  for  to  her  belongs  the  privilege  of  planting 
in  the  hearts  of  her  children  those  seeds  of  love,  which, 
nurtured  and  fostered,  will  bear  the  fruit  of  earnest  and 
useful  lives,  and  fit  them  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  eter- 
nal home  in  heaven. 

Home !  The  dearest  spot  on  earth  !  That  which  seems 
to  imprint  itself  most  indelibly  upon  the  memory  is  the 
recollection  of  home.  All  delight  to  dwell  upon  the 
happy  days  spent  in  the  home  of  their  childhood,  when, 
like  the  joyous  songsters  of  the  woods,  they  whiled  away 
the  happy  moments  with  never  a  thought  of  care. 

How  many  hearts  are  gladdened  by  the  thought  that, 
amid  all  the  troubles  and  anxieties  of  busy  life,  there  is 
one  spot  to  which  they  can  come  and  forget  all  care,  and 
let  peace  and  joy  reign  supreme. 

Heaven !  The  home  of  the  just  beyond  the  grave,  that 
awaits  the  storm-tossed  mariner  upon  the  sea  of  life,  who 
realizes  more  and  more  its  beauties  as  he  approaches  the 
golden  gates,  and  experiences  the  vanity  of  all  earthly 
things.  There  no  sorrow  shall  come,  partings  shall  be 
no  more,  and  the  friends  who  on  earth  found  many  a 
cloud  to  dim  their  joys,  now  are  reunited,  never  again  to 
be  separated. 


440  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

It  is  God's  reward  for  those  who  have  made  a  life-long 
effort  for  right — the  home  of  "just  men  made  perfect." 

i 

There  are  three  words  that  sweetly  blend, 

That  on  the  heart  are  graven; 
A  precious,  soothing  balm  they  lend — 
They're  mother,  home  and  heaven. 

They  twine  a  wreath  of  beauteous  flowers, 

Which,  placed  on  memory's  urn, 
Will  e'en  the  longest,  gloomiest  hours 

To  golden  sunlight  turn. 

They  form  a  chain  whose  every  link 

Is  free  from  base  alloy; 
A  stream  where  whosoever  drinks 

Will  find  refreshing  joy. 

They  build  an  altar  where  each  day 

Love's  offering  is  renewed; 
And  peace  illumes  with  genial  ray  1 

Life's  darkened  solitude. 

If  from  our  side  the  first  has  fled, 

And  home  be  but  a  name, 
Let's  strive  the  narrow  path  to  tread, 

That  we  the  last  may  gain. 

—MARY  J.  MUCKLE. 


Irjflueijce  *  ej*  CH  ife  #  ctrja 


O  human  being  can  come  into  this 
world  without  increasing  or  dimin- 
ishing the  sum  total  of  human  hap- 
piness, not  only  of  the  present  but  of 
every  subsequent  age  of  humanity. 
No  one  can  detach  himself  from 
this  connection,  there  is  no  sequestered  spot 
in  the  universe,  no  dark  niche  along  the  disc 
of  non-existence  to  which  we  can  retreat 
from  our  relations  to  others — where  we  can 
withdraw  the  influence  of  our  existence 
upon  the  moral  destiny  of  the  world;  every- 
where our  presence  or  absence  will  be  felt — 
everywhere  we  will  have  companions  who 
will  be  better  or  worse  for  our  influence. 
It  is  an  old  saying,  and  one  of  fathomless 
import,  that  we  are  forming  characters  for  eternity. 
Forming  characters  !  Whose  ?  our  own  or  others  ? 
Both  ;  and  in  that  momentous  fact  lies  the  peril  and 
responsibility  of  our  existence.  Who  is  sufficient  for 
the  thought  ?  Thousands  of  our  fellow  beings  will  yearly 
enter  eternity  with  characters  differing  from  those  they 
would  have  carried  had  we  never  lived  to  exert  our  influ- 

441 


442  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

ence.  The  sunlight  of  that  world  will  reveal  many  finger 
marks  in  their  primary  formation  and  in  their  successive 
strata  of  thought  and  life. 

Every  individual  is  a  missionary  for  good  or  evil.  He 
may  be  a  blot  extending  his  dark  influence  outward  to 
the  very  circumference  of  society,  or  he  may  be  a  star  of 
blessing  spreading  benediction  over  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  world  ;  but  a  blank  he  cannot  be — there  are  no 
moral  blanks — no  neutral  characters.  The  Christian 
and  the  pagan  alike  wield  their  influence.  The  refined, 
cultured  man  of  society,  and  the  uncouth,  uncul- 
tured cowboy  of  the  plains  are  possessed  of  and  sus- 
ceptible to  the  same  influence.  Perhaps  none  wield  so 
great  an  influence  over  a  man  as  the  wife  and  family. 
We  believe  that  no  man,  whatever  his  occupation,  is 
so  hardened  but  that,  under  some  circumstances,  his 
better  nature  and  judgment  will  give  way  to  the  gen- 
tle influences  of  wife  and  mother.  An  incident,  a  Texas 
story,  which  bears  testimony  that  all  may  be  influenced 
for  good,  seems  applicable  here.  One  hot  evening  in 
July,  1860,  a  herdsman  near  Helena,  Texas,  was  moving 
his  cattle  to  a  new  ranch  further  north,  and  passing 
down  the  banks  of  a  stream  his  herd  became  mixed  with 
other  cattle  that  were  grazing  in  the  valley,  and  some  of 
them  failed  to  be  separated.  The  next  day  about  noon, 
a  band  of  a  dozen  mounted  Texan  Rangers  overtook  the 
herdsman  and  demanded  their  cattle,  which  they  said 
were  stolen. 

It  was  before  the  days  of  law  and  court  houses  in 
Texas,  and  one  would  better  kill  five  men  than  steal  a 
mule  worth  five  dollars,  and  the  herdsman  knew  it.  He 


INFLUENCE   OF   WIFE  AND   MOTHER.  443 

tried  to  explain,  but  they  told  him  to  cut  his  story  short. 
He  offered  to  turn  over  all  the  cattle  not  his  own,  but 
they  laughed  at  his  proposition,  and  hinted  that  they 
usually  confiscated  the  whole  herd,  and  left  the  thief 
hanging  to  a  tree  as  a  warning  to  others  in  like  cases. 

The  poor  fellow  was  completely  overcome.  They  con- 
sulted apart  a  few  moments,  and  then  told  him  if  he  had 
any  explanation  to  make  or  business  to  do  they  would 
allow  him  ten  minutes  to  do  so  and  defend  himself. 

He  turned  to  the  rough  faces,  and  commenced :  "  How 
many  of  you  men  have  wives?"  Two  or  three  nodded. 
"How  many  of  you  have  children?"  They  nodded 
again. 

"Then  I  know  who  I  am  talking  to,  and  you'll  hear 
me,"  and  he  continued :  "I  never  stole  any  cattle  ;  I  have 
lived  in  these  parts  over  three  years.  I  came  from  New 
Hampshire  ;  I  failed  there  in  the  fall  of  '57,  during  the 
panic.  I  have  been  saving  ;  I  have  lived  on  hard  fare  ;  I 
have  slept  out  on  the  ground ;  I  have  no  home  here.  My 
family  remain  east,  for  I  go  from  place  to  place.  These 
clothes  are  rough,  and  I  am  a  hard  looking  customer ; 
but  this  is  a  hard  country.  Days  seem  like  months  to  me 
and  months  like  years  ;  married  men,  you  know,  that  but 
for  the  letters  from  home  (here  he  pulled  out  a  handful 
of  well-worn  envelopes  and  letters  from  his  wife)  I  should 
get  discouraged.  I  have  paid  part  of  my  debts.  Here 
are  the  receipts  (and  he  unfolded  the  letters  of  acknowl- 
edgment). I  expected  to  sell  and  go  home  in  November. 
Here  is  the  testament  my  good  mother  gave  me ;  here  is 
my  little  girl's  picture,  God  bless  her ! "  and  he  kissed  it 
tenderly  and  continued :  "  Now,  men,  if  you  have  decided 


444  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN"  DO. 

to  kill  me  for  what  I  am  innocent  of,  send  these  home, 
and  send  as  much  as  you  can  from  the  cattle  when  I  am 
dead.  Can' t  you  send  half  their  value  ? — my  family  will 
need  it." 

"Hold  on,  now;  stop  right  thar!"  said  a  rough 
Ranger.  "Now  I  say  boys,"  he  continued;  "I  say  let 
him  go.  Give  us  your  hand,  old  boy  ;  that  pictur  and 
them  letters  did  the  business.  You  can  go  free ;  but 
you're  lucky,  mind  ye." 

"We'll  do  more'n  that,"  said  a  man  with  a  big  heart, 
in  Texan  garb,  and  carrying  the  customary  brace  of 
pistols  in  his  belt,  "let's  buy  his  herd  and  let  him  go 
home  now." 

They  did,  and  when  the  money  was  paid  over,  and  the 
man  about  to  start,  he  was  too  weak  to  stand.  The 
long  strain  of  hopes  and  fears,  his  being  away  from 
home  under  such  trying  circumstances,  and  the  sudden 
delivery  from  death,  had  combined  to  render  him  help- 
less as  a  child.  He  sank  to  the  ground  completely 
overcome.  An  hour  later,  however,  he  left  on  horseback 
for  the  nearest  stage  route,  and,  as  they  shook  hands  and 
bade  him  good-bye,  they  looked  the  happiest  band  of 
men  ever  seen. 

Little  did  this  wife  and  mother  dream  of  the  influence 
in  those  magic  letters,  which  she  had  sealed  and  sent 
hundreds  of  miles  away.  They  and  the  family  pictures 
carried  by  the  faithful  husband,  had  their  daily  influ- 
ence upon  his  life  and  courage,  and  no  doubt  made  his 
banished  home  one  of  endurance.  A  mother's  love  and 
influence  is  never  exhausted,  it  never  changes,  it  never 
tires.  A  father  may  turn  his  back  on  his  child,  brothers 


INFLUENCE  OF  WIFE  AND  MOTHER.  445 

and  sisters  may  become  enemies,  but  a  mother's  love 
endures  through  all,  and  she  never  ceases  to  exert  her 
influence  for  good  over  that  wayward  son  who,  perhaps, 
has  abused  and  disgraced  her  ;  but  night  after  night  she 
sends  up  anxious  prayers  for  his  safety  and  reformation. 
Can  he  repay  her  for  the  many  anxious  hours  and  sleep- 
less nights  that  she  has  watched  over  him,  from  the  time 
he  was  but  a  helpless  infant  nestling  in  her  bosom  until 
death  has  removed  her  from  all  care  and  anxiety  ?  We 
would  answer,  yes. 

Next  to  the  love  of  her  husband,  nothing  so  crowns 
the  mother's  life  with  honor  as  the  devotion  of  a  son  to 
her.  We  never  knew  a  boy  to  turn  out  badly  who  began 
by  falling  in  love  with  his  mother.  Any  boy  may  fall 
in  love  with  a  fresh-faced  girl,  and  may  neglect  the  poor, 
weary  wife  in  after  years.  But  the  big  boy  who  is  a 
lover  of  his  mother  is  a  true  knight  who  will  love  his 
wife  in  sere  leaf  autumn  as  he  did  in  the  daisied  spring. 
There  is  nothing  so  beautifully  chivalrous  as  the  love  of 
a  big  boy  for  his  mother. 


HE  mother  should  try,  above  every 
thing,   for  respectful  servants.     She 
should    demand  that    quality,   even 
before  efficiency,   as    the    one  great 
desideratum.  She  must  not  allow  her- 
self   to  be  treated   with  disrespect. 
The  little  creature  sitting  on  her  lap  is  to 
be  influenced  for  life  by  that  hour  in  the 
nursery  when  he  sees  her  authority  out- 
raged.    For,   before   the  lips  speak,   the 
brain  is  working,  the  bright  eyes  are  tak- 
ing in  the  situation,  and  the  baby  is  sitting 
in  judgment  on  his  mother.      She  must 
be  worthy  of  that  judgment. 

Above  all  things,  let  him  never  see  her 
lose  her  temper.  The  nurse  will  then  have  an  advantage 
which  will  strike  the  impartial  judge.  A  woman  at  the 
head  of  the  house  should  be  as  calm  and  as  impertur- 
bable and  as  immovable  as  Mount  Blanc,  to  be  the 
model  mistress.  Of  course,  this  is  often  difficult, 
but  it  is  not  impossible.  Again,  when  she  has  given  an 
order,  she  must  see  that  it  is  obeyed,  even  if  it  costs  her 
a  great  deal  of  trouble  It  is  worth  the  trouble  to  b« 

446 


•BEFORE  THE  LIPS  SPEAK  THE  BRAIN  IS  WORKING  AND  THE  BABY  IS 
SITTING  IN  JUDGMENT  ON  HIS  MOTHER." 


MOTHER  AT  THE  HELM.  447 

disagreeably  pertinacious  on  this  point,  and  inflexible, 
even  to  the  degree  of  being  tiresome,  as  it  establishes  a 
precedent.  A  lady  who  was  a  pattern  housekeeper  made 
a  rule  that  her  waitress  should  bring  her  a  glass  of  water 
at  six  o'clock  every  morning,  and  no  woman  who  disre- 
garded that  rule  was  allowed  to  stay  in  her  house. 
Every  one  thought  this  very  unnecessary;  but  they 
admired  the  punctuality  with  which  the  eight-o'clock 
breakfast  was  served.  uDo  you  not  know,"  said  the 
wise  housekeeper,  "  that  my  inflexible  rule  brings  about 
the  certainty  of  her  early  rising?"  And  as  nothing  con- 
duces so  thoroughly  to  the  health  and  welfare  of  children 
as  regularity,  this  was  an  admirable  beginning  for  the 
young  mother. 

It  is  almost  impossible,  with  some  families,  to  have 
young  children  at  the  table  with  their  parents;  they  are 
left  almost  necessarily  to  the  care  of  nurses  at  meal- time. 
The  result  is,  of  course,  that  they  get  bad  manners  at  the 
table.  A  mother  should  try  to  eat  at  least  one  meal  a 
day  with  her  child,  so  as  to  begin  at  the  beginning  with 
his  table  manners. 

And  those  important  things,  accent  and  pronunciation! 
What  sins  do  not  Americans  commit  in  their  slovenly 
misuse  of  their  own  tongue?  Educated  men,  scientific 
men,  often  so  mispronounce  their  words,  or  speak  with 
so  palpable  a  Yankee  twang,  that  they  are  unfitted  to 
become  public  speakers.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  for 
every  American  household,  could  they  employ  one  Eng- 
lish girl,  with  the  good  pronunciation  which  is  the  com- 
mon inheritance  of  all  the  well-trained  servants  in  those 
parts  of  rural  England  where  the  ladies  take  an  interest 


448  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


in  the  peasantry.  A  mother  should  be  very  careful  to 
talk  much  to  her  children;  to  watch  their  earliest  accent 
as  they  begin  to  go  to  school;  and  to  try  and  impress  a 
good  pronunciation  upon  them  in  their  first  lisping  talk. 

It  is  very  much  the  fashion  now  even  for  people  of 
wealth  to  have  a  polyglot  family  of  servants — a  German 
nurse  and  a  French  governess,  an  English  maid  and  a 
Spanish  waiter — thinking  that  their  children  will  pick  up 
a  dozen  languages  with  their  playthings.  But,  although 
they  do  learn  a  smattering,  children  rarely  learn  a  lan- 
guage well  in  this  way;  and  it  is  quite  certain  that  they 
will  never  know  their  own  language  as  correctly  as  if 
they  learned  that  first,  and  perfectly.  To  learn  to  spell 
in  English  correctly,  English  must  be  taught  before  the 
other  languages  come  in  to  confuse  the  mind. 

A  mother  should  try  to  be  at  home  when  her  children 
return  from  the  school.  She  must  of  course  be  out  some- 
times; but  that  hour  she  should  try  to  be  in,  to  receive 
the  little  fatigued,  miserable  child,  who  has  endured  the 
slavery  of  desks  and  books,  classes,  bad  air,  and  enforced 
tasks  which  we  call  "  school." 

If  we  called  it  racks,  thumb-screws,  the  boot,  the  pul- 
leys, and  the  torture,  as  they  did  similar  institutions 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  we  should  be  more  true  to  the  facts. 
The  modern  teacher  extorts  confessions  of  how  much  is 
eight  times  eight,  or  what  are  the  boundaries  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, or  some  other  country,  in  the  midst  of  heat,  bad 
air,  and  general  oppression  and  suffering  such  as  few 
chambers  of  torture  ever  equaled.  The  boy  comes  home 
with  burning  brow,  perhaps  with  a  headache;  tired, 
angry,  and  depressed,  to  know  that  all  is  to  be  repeated 


I . 

MOTHER  AT   THE   HELM.  449 

on  the  morrow  If  his  mother  is  at  home  he  rushes  to 
her  room.  Let  her  have  patience  and  sympathy,  for  it  is 
his  crucial  hour.  Let  her  bathe  his  head  and  hands;  |{! 

give  him  a  good  lunch,  at  which  she  presides  herself; 
hear  all  his  grievances,  and  smooth  them  over;  and  then 
send  him  out  to  play  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  open  air. 
When  he  must  study  in  the  evening,  both  father  and 
mother  should  tackle  the  arithmetic  and  the  geography 
with  the  boy,  and,  if  possible,  smooth  the  thorny  road 
which  leads  else  to  despair. 

The  animals  know  how  to  take  care  of  their  young  bet- 
ter than  we  do.  The  human  race  has  no  inspiration  on 
the  subject.  A  young  fox  is  educated  for  his  sphere  in 
life  much  more  easily  than  is  a  human  boy.  We  have 
not  conquered  the  secrets  of  doing  the  best  for  our  chil- 
dren, or  else  we  certainly  should  have  learned  how  to 
make  education  more  agreeable.  Perhaps  the  Kinder- 
garten is  the  first  move  in  the  right  direction,  for  we  find 
children  very  happy  there.  Certainly  a  boys'  school  or 
a  girls'  school,  with  bad  air  and  enforced  tasks,  is  not  a 
happy  place.  Dickens  had  a  realizing  sense  of  the  mis- 
eries of  school,  and  has  painted  for  us  the  tragedy  of 
Paul  Dombey  in  colors  which  will  never  fade. 

Now,  in  the  education  of  children  with  a  view  toward 
the  amenities,  does  it  seem  probable  that  a  child  who  is 
struck  and  whipped,  will  become  as  gentle  and  amiable 
as  one  who  is  always  treated  with  a  firm  and  consistent 
and  equable  kindness?  The  "  sparing  the  rod  and  spoil- 
ing the  child"  question  is  one  which  has  not  been 
answered. 

The  violent-tempered  and  easily  irritated  child  is  often 

29 


450  WHAT   GAIT  A   WOMAN  DO. 

apparently  much  relieved  by  what  is  called,  in  familiar 
parlance,  a  "good  whipping."  It  seems  to  carry  off  a 
certain  "malaise"  which  he  is  glad  to  get  rid  of. 
Whether  a  ride  on  donkey-back,  a  row  on  the  river,  or  a 
hearty  run  would  not  do  it  as  well,  there  are  no  possible 
means  of  deciding.  But  to  cuff  a  child's  ears,  to  shake 
him,  to  whip  him  often,  is  to  arouse  all  that  is  worse  in 
his  nature.  The  human  body  is  sacred,  and  a  parent 
should  hesitate  to  outrage  that  natural  dignity  which  is 
born  in  every  sensible  child. 

If  the  amenities  of  home  are  to  begin  early,  we  should 
recommend  a  great  prudence  as  to  the  administration  of 
corporal  punishment;  but,  that  it  should  be  entirely  ban- 
ished, no  one  can  say.  There  are  all  sorts  of  children 
born  into  this  world.  No  one  can  decide  as  to  what  sort 
of  treatment  would  have  made  Jesse  James  a  better  boy, 
as  he  seems  to  have  been  born  a  fiend.  No  one  can,  on 
the  other  hand,  recommend  the  conduct  of  the  clergyman 
who  whipped  his  child  to  death  because  the  little  fright- 
ened creature  would  not  say  his  prayers.  The  kind  and 
good  mother  will  be  apt  to  find  the  mean  between  the 
two. 

The  other  point  of  which  we  are  reminded  by  the 
account  of  the  French  Familistere  is  the  influence  of 
music. 

Every  mother  learns  that,  from  the  cradle-song  up  to 
the  dancing  tune  which  she  plays  on  the  piano,  her  great 
help  in  the  work  of  education,  and  in  her  attempt  at  the 
amenities,  is  music.  Nothing  is  so  perfect  as  the  work 
and  aim  of  this  divine  messenger  in  the  otherwise  insolu- 
ble problem  of  the  nursery.  A  song  often  puts  a  sick 


MOTHER  AT  THE  HELM.  451 

baby  to  sleep.  It  is  sure,  if  it  is  a  simple  ballad,  and  if 
it  tells  a  story,  to  interest  the  boys  and  girls.  What 
mother  who  can  sing  has  not  felt  her  deep  indebtedness 
to  the  "Heir  of  Linn,"  "Young  Lochinvar,"  "The 
Campbells  are  Coming,"  "  Lizzie  Lindsay,"  "  What's  a' 
the  steer,  Kimmer?"  "  Auld  Robin  Grey,"  and  even  to 
the  homely  "  Old  Grimes  is  Dead,"  and  the  familiar  nur- 
sery rhymes  of  Mother  Goose  set  to  the  simplest  of  tunes? 

A  famous  statesman  and  orator  said,  in  one  of  his  best 
speeches,  that  he  could  never  think  of  "  Kathleen 
O' Moore"  as  his  mother  sang  it,  without  the  tears  com- 
ing to  his  eyes,  and  he  often  wondered  what  power  of 
oratory  she  possessed  that  he  had  not  inherited,  what 
nerve  she  contrived  to  reach  which  none  of  his  polished 
periods  could  conquer.  He  should  have  remembered 
that  the  "  hearer's  mood  is  the  speaker's  opportunity," 
and  he  should  thank  her  that  she  aroused  in  him  the 
early  softer  emotion  which  the  battle  of  life  has  not  quite 
rubbed  out. 

Children  like  to  march.  The  rhythmic  instinct  is 
inborn;  they  like  to  dance,  to  move  in  phalanxes.  The 
French  have  caught  this  element  of  concord,  and  have 
utilized  it.  It  is  introduced  here  into  our  public  schools, 
and  to  any  one  who  has  seen  the  the  Normal  College, 
where  a  regiment  as  large  as  the  Seventh — a  regiment  of 
girls— marches  in  to  music,  the  story  need  not  be  told  of 
the  influence  of  music  upon  order.  At  home,  the  evening 
dance  by  the  firelight,  the  mother  playing  for  her  chil- 
dren, is  always  a  picture  of  happiness  and  glee. 

Boys,  as  well  as  girls,  should  be  taught  to  play  upon 
some  musical  instrument.  It  has  the  most  admirable 


452  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

effect  upon  the  amenities  of  home.  No  more  soothing 
or  more  refining  influence  can  be  introduced  than  the 
home  concert.  To  vary  the  usual  custom  and  to  give 
variety,  let  a  girl  learn  the  violin  and  a  boy  the  piano. 
It  is  very  interesting  to  see  the  usual  position  occasion- 
ally reversed,  and  there  is  nothing  ungraceful  or  unfemi- 
nine  in  the  use  of  the  violin.  Very  few  natures  are  so 
coarse  or  so  fierce  that  they  can  not  be  reached  by  music. 
"  I  had,"  said  a  woman  who  was  famed  for  her  lovely 
manners,  "  the  good  fortune  to  have  a  musical  papa.  He 
used  to  wake  me  in  the  morning  by  playing  Mozart's 
'Batti,  Batti'  on  the  flute,  and  he  always,  although  a 
busy  lawyer,  gave  us  an  hour  in  the  evening  with  his 
violin.  I  am  sure  Strauss,  with  his  famous  Vienna 
Orchestra,  and  his  world-renowned  waltzes,  has  never 
put  such  a  thrill  into  my  nerves,  or  such  quicksilver  into 
my  heels  as  did  my  father's  playing  of  the  Virginia  Keel 
and  the  first  movement  of  Von  Weber's  'Invitation  a  la 
Valse,'  nor  have  I  ever  heard  such  solemn  notes  as  those 
which  came  from  his  violoncello,  as  he  accompanied  my 
mother  in  the  Funeral  March  in  the  '  Seventh  Symphony.' 
Their  music  made  home  a  more  attractive  spot  than  any 
theatre  or  ball.  They  were  neither  of  them  great 
musicians.  I  dare  say  their  playing  would  have  been 
considered  very  amateurish  in  these  days  of  musical  excel- 
lence. But  it  served  the  purpose  of  making  home  a  very 
peaceful  spot  to  their  boys  and  girls,  and  of  keeping  it  a 
memory  of  delight  through  much  that  was  trying  in  the 
way  of  small  income,  personal  self-sacrifice,  and  ill- 
health.  We  had  our  trials,  but  everything  vanished 
when  father  began  to  play." 


MOTHER  AT   THE  HELM.  453 

"We  can  not,  in  our  scheme  of  life,  always  command  a 
musical  papa,  but  this  testimony  is  invaluable.  Children 
should  always  be  taught  to  sing,  unless  hopelessly  defect- 
ive in  musical  organization — a  fact  which  can  only  be 
ascertained  by  trial.  The  great  use  of  the  Kindergarten 
is  perhaps  in  this  unconscious  development  of  a  voice, 
and  the  power  of  keeping  time  and  tune.  Many  a  child, 
whose  musical  gift  would  have  remained  unknown,  sud- 
denly develops  a  beautiful  voice  in  the  chorus  of  the 
school. 

Here  the  mother  should  be  the  first  teacher,  and  the 
world  is  now  happily  full  of  books  to  help  her.  The 
"  Songs  of  Harrow,"  edited  by  the  head-master,  contain 
beautiful  simple  part-songs  for  boys,  and  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  such  compilations  for  girls.  To  the  Countess  of 
Dufferin  we  owe  the  introduction  of  the  singing  quad- 
rilles, where,  to  the  Mother  Goose  poems  of  ' '  Mary,  Mary, 
quite  contrary,"  and  "Ride  a  Cock-horse  to  Banbury 
Cross,"  have  been  married  to  certain  very  good  old  English 
tunes,  which  the  dancers  sing  in  different  parts  as  they 
dance,  making  a  charming  effect.  The  Christmas  Carols, 
the  English  Madrigals,  Song  of  the  Waits,  Old  English 
glees  and  ballads,  are  simple,  delightful,  pure,  and  ele- 
vating. The  mother  need  not  be  afraid  of  these  aids  to 
the  home  amenities.  They  may  not  do  all  that  she  may 
wish  to  make  her  children  cultivated  musicians,  but  they 
will  do  much.  The  opportunities  for  musical  culture  are 
very  great  in  our  cities  now,  and  we  should  not  forget 
that,  in  giving  our  children  a  musical  education,  we  are 
giving  them  a  defense  against  ennui,  a  new  and  undying 
means  of  amusing  themselves,  but  also  a  means  of  mak- 


454 


WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 


ing  their  own  future  homes  happy,  that  we  aid  them  in 
an  accomplishment  which  will  be  always  useful,  often 
also  remunerative,  and  with  which  they  can  help  to  swell 
the  praises  of  our  Lord,  and  to  cheer  the  bedside  of  the 
sick  and  dying. 

It  is  not,  of  course,  universal  that  the  manners  of 
musicians  are  perfect,  but  it  has  never  been  urged  against 
music  that  it  injured  the  manners.  Certainly,  in  a  house- 
hold, music  when  once  learned,  can  help  to  increase  the 
cheerfulness  of  home. 


E  come  now  to  the  subject  which 
perhaps  has  little  connection  with 
the  nature  of  this  work,  but 
much  to  do  with  the  welfare  of 
the  state.  We  must  consider  the 
two  extremes  which  are  now  being 
brought  about  by  the  emancipation  of 
young  women.  One  is,  their  higher  education, 
the  other  is,  the  growing  "fastness"  of  manner. 
One  can  scarcely  imagine  amenity  of  manner 
without  education,  and  yet  we  are  forced  to 
observe  that  it  can  exist,  as  we  see  the  manners 
of  highly  educated  and  what  are  called  strong- 
minded  women.  Soft,  gentle,  and  feminine 
manners  do  not  always  accompany  culture  and 
education.  Indeed,  pre-occupation  in  literary  matters 
used  to  be  supposed  to  unfit  a  woman  for  being  a  grace- 
ful member  of  society,  but  nous  avons  change  tout  cela; 
and  we  are  now  in  the  very  midst  of  a  well-dressed  and 
well-mannered  set  of  women  who  work  at  their  pen  as 
Penelope  at  her  web. 
The  home  influence  is,  however,  still  needed  for  those 

455 


456  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

young  daughters  who  begin  early  to  live  in  books;  and 
neatness  in  dress  and  order  should  be  insisted  upon  by 
the  mother  of  a  bookish,  studious  girl.  All  students  are 
disposed  to  be  slovenly,  excepting  an  unusual  class,  who, 
like  the  Count  de  Buffin,  write  in  lace  ruffles  and  diamond 
rings.  Books  are  apt  to  soil  the  hands,  and  libraries, 
although  they  look  clean,  are  prone  to  accumulate  dust. 
Ink  is  a  very  permeating  material,  and  creeps  up  under 
the  middle  finger-nail.  To  appear  with  such  evidences 
of  guilt  upon  one  would  make  the  prettiest  woman 
unlovely. 

The  amenities  of  manner  are  not  quite  enough  consid- 
ered at  some  of  our  female  colleges.  With  the  college 
course  the  young  graduates  are  apt  to  copy  masculine 
manners,  and  we  have  heard  of  a  class  who  cheered  from 
a  boat  their  fellow- students  at  West  Point.  This  is  not 
graceful,  and  to  some  minds  would  more  than  balance 
the  advantages  of  the  severe  course  of  study  marked  out 
and  pursued  at  college.  A  mother  with  gentle  and  lady- 
like manners  would,  however,  soon  counteract  these  mas- 
culine tendencies  and  overflow  of  youthful  spirits.  We 
all  detest  a  man  who  copies  the  feminine  style  of  dress, 
intonation  and  gesture.  Why  should  a  girl  be  any  more 
attractive  who  wears  an  ulster,  a  Derby  hat,  and  who 
strides,  puts  her  hands  in  her  pockets,  and  imitates  her 
brother's  style  in  walk  and  gesture? 

However,  to  a  girl  who  is  absorbed  in  books,  who  is 
reading,  studying,  and  thinking,  we  can  forgive  much  if 
she  only  will  come  out  a  really  cultivated  woman.  We 
know  that  she  will  be  a  power  in  the  state,  an  addition 
to  the  better  forces  of  our  government;  that  she  will  be 


EDUCATION  AND  MANNERS  OF  OUR  GIELS.          457 

not  only  happy  herself,  but  the  cause  of  happiness  in 
others.  The  cultivated  woman  is  a  much  more  useful 
factor  in  civilization  than  the  vain,  silly,  and  flippant 
woman,  although  the  latter  may  be  prettier.  But  it  is  a 
great  pity  that,  having  gone  so  far,  she  should  not  go 
further,  and  come  out  a  cultivated  flower,  instead  of  a 
learned  weed. 

Far  more  reprehensible  and  destructive  of  all  ameni- 
ties, is  the  growing  tendency  to  "fastness,"  an  exotic 
which  we  have  imported  from  somewhere;  probably  from 
the  days  of  the  Empire  in  Paris. 

It  seems  hardly  possible  that  the  "  fast "  woman  of  the 
present,  whose  fashion  has  been  achieved  by  her  ques- 
tionable talk,  her  excessive  dress,  her  doubtful  manners, 
can  have  grown  out  of  the  same  soil  that  produced  Pris- 
cilla  Mullins.  The  old  Puritan  Fathers  would  have 
turned  the  helm  of  the  Mayflower  the  other  way  if  they 
could  have  seen  the  product  of  one  hundred  years  of 
independence.  Now  all  Europe  rings  with  the  stories  of 
American  women,  young,  beautiful,  charmingly  dressed, 
who  live  away  from  their  husbands,  flirt  with  princes, 
make  themselves  the  common  talk  of  all  the  nations,  and 
are  delighted  with  their  own  notoriety.  To  educate 
daughters  to  such  a  fate  seems  to  recall  the  story  of  the 
Harpies.  Surely  no  mother  can  coolly  contemplate  it. 
And  the  amenities  of  home  should  be  so  strict  and  so 
guarded  that  this  fate  would  be  impossible. 

In  the  first  place,  young  girls  should  not  be  allowed  to 
walk  in  the  crowded  streets  of  a  city  alone;  a  companion, 
a  friend,  a  maid,  should  always  be  sent  with  them.  Lady 
Thornton  said,  after  one  year's  experience  of  Washing- 


458  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

ton,  "I  must  bring  on  a  very  strict  English  governess  to 
walk  about  with  my  girls."  And  in  the  various  games 
so  much  in  fashion  now,  such  as  skating  and  lawn-tennis, 
there  is  no  doubt  as  much  necessity  for  a  chaperon  as  in 
attending  balls  and  parties.  Not  alone  that  impropriety 
is  to  be  checked,  but  that  manners  may  be  cultivated. 
A  well-bred  woman  who  is  shocked  at  slang,  and  who 
presents  in  her  own  person  a  constant  picture  of  good 
manners,  is  like  the  atmosphere,  a  presence  which  is 
felt,  and  who  unconsciously  educates  the  young  persons 
about  her. 

"  I  have  never  gotten  over  Aunt  Lydia's  smile,"  said  a 
soldier  on  the  plains,  who,  amid  the  terrible  life  of  camp 
and  the  perils  of  Indian  warfare,  had  never  lost  the 
amenities  of  civilized  life.  "  When  a  boy  I  used  to  look 
up  at  the  table,  through  a  long  line  of  boisterous  children 
clamoring  for  food,  and  see  my  Aunt  Lydia's  face.  It 
never  lost  its  serenity,  and  when  things  were  going  very 
wrong  she  had  but  to  look  at  us  and  smile,  to  bring  out 
all  right.  She  seemed  to  say  with  that  silent  smile,  '  Be 
patient,  be  strong,  be  gentle,  and  all  will  come  right.'  " 

The  maiden  aunt  was  a  perpetual  benediction  in  that 
house,  because  of  her  manner;  it  was  of  course,  the  out- 
crop of  a  fine,  well-regulated,  sweet  character;  but  sup- 
posing she  had  had  the  character  with  a  disagreeable 
manner  ?  The  result  would  have  been  lost. 

We  have  all  visited  in  families  where  the  large  flock  of 
children  came  forward  to  meet  us  with  outstretched  hand 
and  ready  smile.  We  have  seen  them  at  table,  peaceful 
and  quiet,  waiting  their  turn.  We  have  also  visited  ID 
other  houses  where  we  have  found  them  discourteous, 


EDUCATION   AND    MANNERS   OF   OUR  GIRLS. 


459 


sullen,  ill-mannered  and  noisy.  We  know  that  the  latter 
have  all  the  talent,  the  good  natural  gifts,  the  originality, 
and  the  honor  of  the  former.  We  know  that  the  parents 
have  just  as  much  desire  in  the  latter  case  to  bring  up 
their  children  well,  but  where  have  they  failed?  They 
have  wanted  firmness  and  an  attention  to  the  amenities. 


AM  so  glad  I  have  no  daughters, 
said  a  leader  of  society;  "for  what 
should  I  do  with  them?  I  should 
not  wish  to  have  them  peculiar 
girls,  dressed  differently  from  their 
mates,  or  marked  as  either  bookish 
girls,  or  prudish  girls,  or  non-dan- 
cing girls,  or  anything  queer;  and  yet  I  could 
never  permit  them  to  go  out  on  a  coach,  be 
out  to  the  small  hours  of  the  night  with  no 
chaperon  but  a  woman  no  older  than  them- 
selves. I  could  not  allow  them  to  dance  with 
notorious  drunkards,  men  of  evil  life,  gam- 
blers, and  betting  men;  I  could  not  let  them 
dress  as  many  girls  do  whom  I  know  and  like; 
so  I  am  sure  it  is  fortunate  for  me  that  I  have  no  daugh- 
ters. I  could  not  see  them  treat  my  friends  as  so  many 
of  my  friends'  daughters  treat  me — as  if  I  were  the  scum 
of  the  universe.  I  am  glad  I  have  no  daughters;  for  a 
modern  daughter  would  kill  me." 

Perhaps  this  lady  but  elaborated  the  troublesome  prob- 
lem which  has  tried  the  intellects  of  all  observant  women 
—how  to  make  the  proper  medium  girl;  not  the  "  fast " 


4150 


"THE    MODEL   GIRL." 


THE  MODEL   GIRL.  461 

girl;  still  again,  not  the  "slow"  dowdy  girl;  not  the 
exceptional  girl,  but  the  girl  who  shall  be  at  once  good 
and  successful — that  is  the  question  ? 

The  amenities  of  home,  the  culture  of  the  fireside,  the 
mingled  duty  and  pleasure  which  come  with  a  life  which 
has  already  its  duties  before  its  pleasures — this  would 
seem  to  make  the  model  girl.  The  care  and  interest  in 
the  younger  sisters  and  brothers;  a  comprehension  and  a 
sympathy  with  her  mother's  trials  ;  a  devotion  to  her 
hard-worked  father ;  a  desire  to  spare  him  one  burden 
more,  to  learn  the  music  he  loves,  to  play  to  him  of  an 
evening ;  to  be  not  only  the  admired  belle  of  the  ball- 
room, but  also  the  dearest  treasure  of  home ;  to  help 
along  the  boys  with  their  lessons,  to  enter  into  those  trials 
of  which  they  will  not  speak;  to  take  the  fractious  baby 
from  the  patient  or  impatient  nurse's  arms,  and  to  toss  it 
in  her  own  strong  young  hands  and  smile  upon  it  with 
her  own  pearly  teeth  and  red  lips;  to  take  what  comes  to 
her  of  gayety  and  society  as  an  outside  thing,  not  as  the 
•whole  of  life;  to  be  not  heart-broken  if  one  invitation  fail, 
or  if  one  dress  is  unbecoming ;  to  be  cheerful  and  watch- 
ful ;  to  be  fashionable  enough,  but  neither  fast  nor  furi- 
ous; to  be  cultivated  and  not  a  blue-stocking ;  to  beards- 
tic,  but  not  eccentric  or  slovenly  ;  to  be  a  lovely  woman 
whom  men  love,  and  yet  neither  coquette  nor  flirt — such 
would  seem  to  be  the  model  girl. 

And  it  is  home  and  its  amenities  which  must  make  her. 
School  cannot  do  it ;  society  cannot  and  will  not  do  it ; 
books  will  not  do  it,  although  they  will  help. 

And  here  we  have  much  to  say  on  the  books  which 
should  surround  a  girl.  We  must  seek,  and  watch,  and 


462  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

try  to  find  the  best  books  for  our  girls.  But  we  can  no 
more  prevent  a  bad  French  novel  from  falling  into  their 
hands  than  we  can  prevent  the  ivy  which  may  poison 
them,  from  springing  up  in  the  hedge.  The  best  advice 
we  can  give,  is  to  let  a  girl  read  as  she  pleases  in  a  well- 
selected  library;  often  reading  with  her,  recommending 
certain  books,  and  forming  her  taste  as  much  as  possible; 
then  leaving  her  to  herself,  to  pick  out  the  books  she 
likes.  Nothing  will  be  so  sure  to  give  a  girl  a  desire  to 
read  a  book  as  to  forbid  it,  and  we  are  now  so  fortunate 
in  the  crowd  of  really  good  novels  and  most  unexceptional 
magazines  which  lie  on  our  tables  that  we  are  almost 
sure  that  her  choice  will  be  a  good  one;  for  she  can  find 
so  much  more  good  than  bad. 

It  is  unwise  to  forbid  girls  to  read  novels.  They  are 
to-day  the  best  reading.  Fiction,  too,  is  natural  to  the 
youthful  mind.  It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  Heaven 
gave  us  our  imagination  and  rosy  dreams  for  nothing. 
They  are  the  drapery  of  fact,  and  are  intended  to  soften 
for  us  the  dreary  outlines  of  duty.  No  girl  was  ever 
injured,  if  she  were  worth  saving,  by  a  little  novel-reading. 
Indeed,  the  most  ethical  writers  of  the  day  have  learned 
that,  if  a  fact  is  worth  knowing,  it  had  better  be  conveyed 
in  the  agreeable  form  of  a  fiction.  What  girl  would  ever 
learn  so  much  of  Florentine  history  in  any  other  way  as 
she  learns  by  reading  "  Romola?"  What  better  picture 
of  the  picturesque  past  than  "The  Last  Days  of  Pom- 
peii?" Walter  Scott's  novels  are  the  veriest  mine  of 
English  and  Scotch  history;  and  we  might  go  on  indefi- 
nitely. 

As  for  studies  for  girls,  it  is  always  best  to  teach  them 


THE   MODEL   GIRL.  463 

Latin,  as  a  solid  foundation  for  the  modern  languages,  if 
for  nothing  else;  as  much  arithmetic  as  they  can  stand; 
and  then  go  on  to  the  higher  education  and  the  culture 
which  their  mature  minds  demand,  if  they  desire  it  an<} 
are  equal  to  it. 

But  no  mother  should  either  compel  or  allow  her 
daughter  to  study  to  the  detriment  of  her  health.  The 
moment  a  girl's  body  begins  to  suffer,  then  her  mind 
must  be  left  free  from  intellectual  labor.  With  some 
women,  brain- work  is  impossible.  It  produces  all  sorts 
of  diseases,  and  makes  them  at  once  a  nervous  wreck. 
With  other  women  intellectual  labor  is  a  necessity.  It  is 
like  exercise  of  the  limbs.  It  makes  them  grow  strong 
and  rosy.  No  woman  who  can  study  and  write,  and  at 
the  same  time  eat  and  sleep,  preserve  her  complexion  and 
her  temper,  need  be  afraid  of  intellectual  labor.  But  a 
mother  must  watch  her  young  student  closely,  else  in  the 
ardor  of  emulation  amid  the  excitements  of  school  she 
may  break  down,  and  her  health  leave  her  in  an  hour.  It 
is  the  inexperienced  girl  who  ruins  her  health  by  intel- 
lectual labor. 

To  many  a  woman  intellectual  labor  is,  however,  a 
necessity.  It  carries  off  nervousness;  it  is  a  delightful 
retreat  from  disappointment;  it  is  a  perfect  armor  against 
ennui.  What  the  convent  life  is  to  the  devotee,  what  the 
fashionable  arena  is  to  the  belle,  what  the  inner  science 
of  politics  is  to  the  European  women  of  ambition,  literary 
work  is  to  certain  intellectual  women.  So  a  mother  need 
not  fear  to  encourage  her  daughter  in  it,  if  she  sees 
the  strong  growing  taste,  and  finds  that  her  health  will 
bear  it. 


i 

464  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

But  we  fear  that  certain  fashionable  schools  have 
ruined  the  health  of  many  a  girl,  particularly  those  where 
the  rooms  are  situated  at  the  top  of  a  four-story  building, 
as  they  generally  are.  A  poor,  panting,  weary  girl 
mounts  these  cruel  steps  to  begin  the  incomprehensibly 
difficult  service  of  a  modern  school.  "Why  do  you 
never  go  out  at  recess?"  said  a  teacher  to  one  of  her 
pupils.  "  Because  it  hurts  my  heart  so  much  to  come 
up  the  stairs,"  said  the  poor  girl.  "Oh!  but  you  should 
take  exercise,"  said  the  teacher;  "look  at  Louisa's  color!" 

That  teacher  knew  as  much  of  pathology  as  she  did  of 
Hottentot;  and  the  pupil  thus  advised  lies  to-day  a 
hopeless  invalid  on  her  bed. 


•  of-  (p 


UT,  if  the  amenities  of  home  are  thus 
hopefully  to  direct  our  daughters  in 
the  right  way,  what  will  they  do  for 
our  sons  1 

Of  one  thing  we  may  be  certain, 
there  is  no  royal  road  by  which  we 
can  make  "good  young  men."  The 
age  is  a  dissolute  one.  The  story  of 
temptation  and  indulgence  is  not  new  or  fin- 
ished. The  worst  of  it  is  that  women  feed  and 
tempt  the  indulgence  of  the  age.  Women  per- 
mit a  lack  of  respect.  Even  young  men  who 
have  been  well  brought  up  by  their  mothers, 
become  careless  when  associating  with  girls 
who  assume  the  manners  and  customs  of 
young  men.  And  when  it  is  added  that  some 
women  in  good  society  hold  lax  ideas,  talk  in 
double  entendre,  and  encourage  instead  of  repressing 
license,  how  can  young  men  but  be  demoralized? 

If  women  show  disapproval  of  coarse  ideas  and  offen- 
sive habits,  men  drop  those  ideas  and  habits.  A  woman 
is  treated  by  men  exactly  as  she  elects  to  be  treated. 


There  is  a  growing  social  blot  in  our  society. 

30  465 


It  is  the 


466  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

complacency  with  which  women  bear  contemptuous 
treatment  from  men.  It  is  the  low  order  at  which  they 
rate  themselves,  the  rowdiness  of  their  own  conduct,  the 
forgiveness  on  the  part  of  women  of  all  masculine  sins  of 
omission,  that  injures  men's  manners  irretrievably. 

Fast  men  and  women,  untrained  boys  and  girls,  people 
without  culture,  are  doing  much  to  injure  American 
society.  They  are  injuring  the  immense  social  force  of 
good  manners.  Women  should  remember  this  part  of 
their  duty.  Men  will  not  be  chivalrous  or  deferential 
unless  women  wish  them  to  be. 

The  amenities  of  home  are  everything  to  a  boy.  With- 
out them  very  few  men  can  grow  to  be  gentlemen.  A 
man's  religion  is  learned  at  his  mother's  knee;  and  often 
that  powerful  recollection  is  all  that  he  cares  for  on  a 
subject  which  it  is  daily  becoming  more  and  more  of  a 
fashion  for  men  to  ignore.  His  politeness  and  deference 
are  certainly  learned  there,  if  anywhere.  A  mother  must 
remember  that  all  hints  which  she  gives  her  son,  as  to  a 
graceful  and  gentlemanly  bearing,  are  so  many  powerful 
aids  to  his  advancement  in  the  world.  A  clergyman  who 
did  not  approve  of  dancing  still  sent  his  son  to  dancing- 
school,  because,  as  he  said,  he  wished  "him  to  learn  to 
enter  a  drawing-room  without  stumbling  over  the  piano." 

The  education  of  the  body  is  a  very  important  thing. 
The  joints  of  some  poor  boys  are  either  too  loosely  or  too 
tightly  hung,  and  they  find  it  difficult  to  either  enter  or 
leave  a  room  gracefully.  "Don't  you  know  how  hard 
it  is  for  some  people  to  get  out  of  a  room  after  their  visit 
is  really  over?  One  would  think  they  had  been  built  in 
your  parlor  or  study,  and  were  waiting  to  be  launched," 


THE   MANNERS   OF   OUR  BOYS.  467 

says  Dr.  Holmes.  This  is  so  true  that  one  almost  may 
suggest  that  it  be  a  part  of  education  to  teach  a  boy  how 
to  go  away.  The  "business  of  salutation"  and  leave- 
taking  is  really  an  important  part  of  education. 

One  great  argument  for  a  military  exercise  is  that  it 
teaches  the  stooping  to  stand  up,  the  lagging  to  walk,  the 
awkward  to  be  graceful,  the  shambling  to  step  accu- 
rately. Lord  Macauley  in  his  old  age  wished  that  he  had 
had  a  military  training,  as  he  "never  had  known  which 
foot  to  start  with." 

There  are  some  persons  born  into  the  world  graceful, 
whose  bodies  always  obey  the  brain.  There  are  far  more 
who  have  no  such  physical  command.  To  those  who 
have  it  not,  it  must  be  taught.  The  amenities  of  home 
should  begin  with  the  morning  salutation,  a  graceful  bow 
from  the  boy  to  his  mother,  as  he  comes  in  to  breakfast. 

And  table  manners,  what  a  large  part  they  play  in  the 
amenities  of  home!  A  mother  should  teach  her  boy  to 
avoid  both  greediness  and  indecision  at  table.  He  should 
be  taught  to  choose  what  he  wants  at  once,  and  to  eat 
quietly,  without  unnecessary  mumbling  noise.  Unless 
she  teaches  him  such  care  early,  he  will  hiss  at  his  soup 
through  life.  She  must  teach  him  to  hold  his  fork  in  his 
right  hand,  and  to  eat  with  it,  and  to  use  his  napkin  prop- 
erly. If  Dr.  Johnson  had  been  taught  these  accomplish- 
ments early,  it  would  have  been  more  agreeable  for  Mrs. , 
Thrale.  Teach  your  boy  the  grace  of  calmness.  Let  the 
etiquette  of  the  well-governed,  well-ordered  table  be  so 
familiar  to  him  that  he  will  not  be  flustered  if  he  upsets 
a  wine-glass,  or  utterly  discomposed  if  a  sneeze  or  a  chok- 


463  WHAT   CA1ST   A   WOMAN  DO. 

ing  fit  require  his  sudden  retreat  behind  his  napkin, 
when,  after  he  leaves  you,  he  essays  to  dine  abroad. 

Life  in  America  is  in- a  great  hurry,  and  the  breakfast 
before  school  or  business  can  not  be  in  most  families  the 
scene  of  much  instruction.  We  are  accused  by  foreign- 
ers of  bolting  our  food,  and  we  are  supposed  to  be  dys- 
peptic in  consequence.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  we  do 
eat  too  fast  and  too  much.  Seneca  tells  us  that  "our 
appetite  is  dismissed  with  small  payment,  if  we  only 
give  it  what  we  owe  it,"  and  not  what  an  ungoverned 
appetite  craves.  It  is  a  debt  which  we  should  pay 
slowly,  and  by  installments.  But,  if  breakfast  is  hur- 
ried, dinner  can  be  quiet  and  well  ordered,  be  it  ornate  or 
simple. 

Nothing  is  better  for  the  practice  of  the  amenities  of 
home  than  a  rigorous  determination  to  dress  for  dinner. 
This  does  not  mean  that  we  should  be  expensively  or 
showily  dressed,  but  that  every  member  of  the  family 
should  appear  clean  and  brushed,  and  with  some  change 
of  garment.  A  few  minutes  in  the  dressing-room  is  not 
too  much  of  a  task  to  even  the  busiest  man,  and  he  comes 
down  much  refreshed  to  his  meal. 

A  lady  hardly  needs  any  urging  on  this  point;  but,  if 
any  one  does  need  urging,  it  is  certainly  worth  men- 
tioning. 

Several  years  ago  a  growing  family  of  boys  and  girls 
were  taken  by  their  parents,  who  had  experienced  a 
reverse  of  fortune,  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  oil-wells  to 
live.  It  was  about  the  time  they  were  growing  up,  and 
their  mother  was  in  despair  as  she  thought  of  the  lost 
opportunities  of  her  children.  Nothing  about  them  but 


THE   MANNERS    OF   OUR  BOYS.  469 

ignorance.  No  prospect,  no  schools,  no  anything.  But 
in  the  depth  of  her  love  she  found  inspiration. 

Out  of  the  wreck  of  her  fortunes  she  had  saved  enough 
to  furnish  parlor  and  dining  room  prettily,  and  to  buy  a 
few  handsome  lamps.  Books  were  there  in  plenty,  for  old 
books  sell  for  very  little;  so  she  had  been  able  to  save 
that  important  factor  of  civilization. 

Every  evening  her  lamps  were  lighted  and  her  dinner 
spread  as  if  for  a  feast;  and  every  member  of  the  family 
was  made  to  come  in  as  neatly  dressed  as  if  it  were  a 
party.  The  father  and  mother  dressed  carefully,  and  the 
evening  was  enlivened  by  music  and  reading. 

She  attended  to  their  education  herself,  although  not 
fitted  for  it  by  her  own  training.  She  did  as  well  as  she 
could.  She  taught  them  to  bow  and  to  courtesy,  to 
dance,  to  draw,  to  paint,  to  play  and  sing;  that  is,  she 
started  them  in  all  these  accomplishments.  In  five  years, 
when  better  fortunes  brought  them  to  the  city  again,  they 
were  as  well-bred  as  their  city  cousins,  and  all  her  friends 
applauded  her  spirit.  This  was  done,  too,  with  only 
the  assistance  of  one  servant,  and  sometimes  with  not 
even  that. 

It  required  enormous  courage,  persistence,  and  belief 
in  the  amenities  of  home.  How  many  women,  under  such 
doleful  circumstances,  would  have  sunk  into  slovenli- 
ness and  despair,  and  would  have  allowed  their  flock  to 
run  wild,  like  the  neighboring  turkeys! 

There  is  great  hope  for  country  children  who  are  sur- 
rounded by  a  certain  prosperity  and  agreeable  surround- 
ings. They  see  more  of  their  parents  than  city  children 
can;  and  perhaps  the  ideal  home  is  always  in  the  coun- 


470  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

try.  Those  small  but  cultivated  New  England  villages, 
those  inland  cities,  those  rural  neighborhoods,  where 
nature  helps  the  mother,  where  the  natural  companion- 
ship of  animals  is  possible  for  the  boys,  and  the  pony 
comes  to  the  door  for  the  girls;  where  water  is  near  for 
boating  and  fishing,  and  in  winter  for  the  dear  delights 
of  skating— such  is  the  beautiful  home  around  which  the 
memory  will  for  ever  cling.  The  ideal  man  can  be  reared 
there,  one  would  think— that  ideal  man  whom  Richter 
delighted  to  depict,  one  whose  loving  heart  is  the  begin- 
ning of  knowledge. 

We  could  paint  the  proper  place  for  the  ideal  man  to 
be  born  in,  if,  alas!  for  all  our  theories,  he  did  not  occa- 
sionally spring  out  of  the  slums,  ascend  from  the  lowest 
deeps,  and  confute  all  our  theories  by  being  nature's  best 
gem,  without  ancestry,  without  home,  without  help, 
without  culture. 

The  education  of  boys  in  cities  is  beset  withdifficul ties; 
for  the  fashionable  education  may  lead  to  self-sufficiency 
and  conceit,  with  a  disdain  of  the  solid  virtues;  or  it  may 
lead  to  effeminacy  and  foppishness — the  worst  faults  of 
an  American.  These  two  last  faults  are,  however,  not 
fashionable  or  common  faults  in  our  day.  There  is  a 
sense  of  superiority  engendered  in  the  "smart  young 
man,"  so  called,  which  is  very  offensive.  All  snobs  are 
detestable;  the  American  snob  is  preeminently  detestable. 

A  young  man  of  fashion  in  New  York  is  apt  to  get  him 
a  habitual  sneer,  which  is  not  becoming,  and  to  assume 
an  air  of  patronage,  which  is  foolish.  He  has  a  love  for 
discussing  evil  things,  which  has  a  very  poor  effect  on 
his  mind;  he  has  no  true  ideas  of  courtesy  or  good-breed- 


THE   MANNERS   OF   OUR  BOYS.  471 

ing;  he  is  thoroughly  selfish,  and  grows  more  and  more 
debased  in  his  pleasures,  as  self-indulgence  becomes  the 
law  of  his  life. 

His  outward  varnish  of  manner  is  so  thin  that  it  does 
not  disguise  his  inner  worthlessness.  It  is  like  that  var- 
nish which  discloses  the  true  grain  of  the  wood.  Some 
people  of  showy  manners  are  thoroughly  ill-bred  at  heart. 
None  of  these  men  have  the  tradition  of  fine  manners, 
that  old-world  breeding  of  which  we  have  spoken.  They 
would  be  then  able  to  cover  up  their  poverty;  but  they 
have  not  quite  enough  for  that;  and  they  truly  believe — 
these  misguided  youths — that  a  rich  father,  a  fashionable 
mother,  an  air  of  ineffable  conceit,  will  carry  them 
through  the  world.  It  is  astonishingly  true  that  it  goes 
a  great  way,  but  not  the  whole  way. 

No  youth,  bred  in  a  thoroughly  virtuous  and  respecta- 
ble family,  grows  up  to  be  very  much  of  a  snob,  let  us 
hope.  Alas!  he  may  become  a  drunkard,  a  gambler,  a 
failure.  And  then  we  come  up  standing  against  that  great 
cruel  stone  wall,  that  unanswered  question,  "Why  have 
I  wrought  and  prayed  to  no  purpose  2"  And  who  shall 
answer  us  ?  . 

It  is  the  one  who  sins  least  who  is  found  out,  and  who 
gets  the  most  punishment. 

There  is  a  pathetic  goodness  about  some  great  sinners 
which  they  never  lose.  We  love  the  poor  fallen  one 
whom  we  try  to  save.  Never  are  the  amenities  of  home 
more  precious,  more  sacred,  more  touching,  than  when 
they  try  to  help  the  faltering,  stumbling  footstep;  to  hide 
the  disgrace,  to  shelter  the  guilty,  to  ignore,  if  possible, 
the  failing  which  easily  besets  the  prodigal  son;  to  wel- 


472  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

come  him  back  when  society  has  discarded  him;  to  be 
patient  with  his  pettishness,  and  to  cover  his  faults  with 
the  mantle  of  forgiveness;  all  these  are  too  tragic,  too 
noble,  too  sacred  for  us  to  dilate  upon.  They  are  the 
amenities  of  heaven. 

Society  makes  no  explanations  and  asks  none,  else  we 
might  ask  why  some  men  and  women  are  tolerated,  and 
why  others  are  cast  out  ?  Why  some  young  man  who 
had  once  forgotten  himself  after  dinner  is  held  up  to 
scorn,  and  why  another  is  forgiven  even  through  the 
worst  scandal  ?  Why  is  injustice  ever  done  ? 

Many  a  young  man,  having  experienced  injustice  at 
the  hands  of  society,  goes  off  and  deliberately  commits 
moral  suicide.  The  conduct  of  society  is  profoundly 
illogical,  and  we  cannot  reform  it. 


cT.  #  ]f 


HANCELLOR  Kent  said,  in  his  wise 
way,  that  the  citizen  who  did  not  give 
his  son  a  profession  or  a  trade,  was 
wronging  the  state.     Every  one  must 
have  something  to  do.    The  idle  man 
is  a  dangerous  man.   It  is  a  pity  that 
every  boy  cannot  learn  a  profession  and  a  trade. 
In  the   troublous  times  which  we  have  just 
gone  through,  we  have  seen  how  much  better 
it  was  to  be  a  shoemaker  than  to  be  a  lawyer. 
The  professional  men  nearly  starved. 

Madame  de  Genlis  said  that  she  knew  sev- 
enty trades,  by  any  one  of  which  she  could  have 
earned  a  living.  She  taught  the  sons  of  Philip 
Egalite  to  make  shoes,  pocket-books,  brooms, 
brushes,  hats,  coats,  and  all  sorts  of  cabinet-work.  She 
taught  them  literature,  science,  and  music;  had  them 
instructed  in  watch-making  and  clock-making,  and  even 
in  the  arts  of  killing  and  cutting  up  a  sheep.  They 
found  many  of  these  resources  valuable  in  exile;  and  it 
is  strange  that  it  has  not  occurred  to  those  who  have 
boys  who  are  not  princes,  to  do  the  same.  A  boy  could 
learn  to  be  a  carpenter  while  preparing  for  college,  and 

4T3 


474  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

could  study  his  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics  with  a 
better  brain  for  the  exercise. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  gentlemen's  sons  deem  certain 
trades  beneath  their  notice.     For  all  labor  is  honorable, 
and  all  cannot  succeed  as  lawyers,  doctors,  clergymen, 
or  merchants.     There  is  great  need  of  the  handicraft  so 
honorably  considered  in  the  middle  ages.     Every  gift 
bestowed  upon  us  by  Providence,  whether  of  mind  or 
body,  is  a  talent  to  be  grateful  for.     Arthur  can  write 
verses;    Jack  can  cut  down  a  tree;    Sam  can  reason; 
Edmund  can  do   a  sum;     Peter  can  measure  and  saw 
boards;  Henry  can  tame  animals  and  make  all  nature  his 
tributary;  James  likes  to  sit  and  work  at  some  thought- 
ful, sedentary  task;  Horatio  is  speculative,  active,  cour- 
ageous— he  aims  at  Wall  street.     Alas!  they  all  aim  at 
Wall  street,  that  fairy  street  lined  with  gold.     They  go 
there,  most  of  them,  to  find  only  Peter  Goldthwaite' s 
"  treasure,"  if,  indeed,  they  do  not  find  something  worse. 
In  the  forming  of  character,    the  father  and  mother 
should  try  to  make  headway  against  this  national  mis- 
take, that  to  rush  headlong  into  money- making  is  the 
end  of  life.     A  boy  should  be  taught  to  respect  the  day 
of  small  things;  to  work  honestly  for  every  dollar  he 
gets;  and  to  let  that  dollar  represent  something  given 
back  for  the  worth  of  it.     It  would  be  a  very  good  thing 
for  all  young  men  if  there  were  a  law  that  they  should 
enter  no  profession  or  business,  until  they  had  proved 
that  they  could  earn  their  living  by  their  hands. 

Casimir  Perier  said,  when  accused  of  being  an  aristo- 
crat: "My  only  aristocracy  is  the  superiority  which 
industry,  frugality,  perseverance,  and  intelligence  will 


A  PROFESSION   FOR   OUR  BOYS.  475 

insure  to  every  man  in  a  free  state  of  society;  and  I 
belong  to  those  privileged  classes  of  society  to  which  you 
may  all  belong  in  your  turn.  Our  wealth  is  our  own;  we 
have  gained  it  by  the  sweat  of  our  brows  or  by  the  labor 
of  our  minds.  Our  position  in  society  is  not  conferred 
upon  us,  but  purchased  by  ourselves  with  our  own  intel- 
lect, application,  zeal  and  knowledge,  patience  and  indus- 
try. If  you  remain  inferior  to  us,  it  is  because  you  have 
not  the  talent,  the  industry,  the  zeal  or  the  sobriety,  the 
patience  or  the  application,  necessary  to  your  advance- 
ment. You  wish  to  become  rich  as  some  do  to  become 
wise,  but  there  is  no  royal  road  to  wealth  any  more  than 
there  is  to  knowledge." 

These  are  sentences  which  should  be  engraved  on  the 
walls  of  every  college  and  schoolhouse.  Young  men 
should  learn  to  look  to  patient  labor  as  their  lot  in  life. 
The  feverish  and  sudden  success  of  a  few,  wrecks  a 
thousand  yearly. 

"There  is  Charley,  who  has  made  his  pile  in  Wall 
street  in  six  months.  Why  should  I  work  all  my  life 
for  what  he  gains  in  half  a  year?"  asks  visionary  and  lazy 
Fred,  not  counting  the  thousand  failures  in  Wall  street, 
including  failures  to  be  honest. 

There  is,  however,  a  growing  taste  for  agriculture  in 
our  country  which  is  most  hopeful.  The  earth  owes  us 
all  a  living,  and  if  we  will  "tickle  her  with  a  hoe  she 
will  laugh  with  a  harvest." 

There  is  now  living  in  the  State  of  New  York  a  young 
farmer  who  went  from  the  ranks  of  a  fashionable  career 
right  into  the  fields.  Inheriting  a  farm  which  was  worth 
nothing  unless  he  worked  it  himself,  he  determined  to 


476  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

study  scientific  farming  at  an  agricultural  college  in  Eng- 
land; and  came  home  armed  with,  useful  knowledge  and 
with  practical  ideas.  He  had  learned  to  be  a  very  good 
blacksmith,  carpenter,  saddler,  and  butcher  —  for  a 
farmer  should  know  how  to  mend  his  farm- wagon,  stitch 
his  harness,  shoe  his  horse,  and  kill  his  calves — according 
to  the  economical  English  fashion. 

And  he  had  great  good  luck,  this  young  farmer,  in 
that  he  found  a  wife  who,  like  himself,  had  been  reared 
in  "our  best  society,"  but  who  was  willing  to  leave  all 
for  his  sake,  and  to  learn  to  pickle  and  preserve,  to  bake 
and  brew,  to  attend  to  the  dairy,  and  to  get  up  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning  to  give  her  working  husband  his 
breakfast,  and  he  learned  that, 

'  He  who  by  the  plow  would  thrive, 
Must  either  hold  himself  or  drive." 

So  this  jolly  farmer  is  always  at  it,  and  drives  his  team 
afield  himself  at  daybreak. 

The  old  farmers  wonder  as  they  see  this  handsome 
young  fellow,  beautifully  dressed,  on  Sunday,  driving 
his  pretty  wife  to  church,  that  he  can  make  more  money 
than  they  can.  His  butter  is  better,  and  brings  more  a 
pound;  ^his  wheat  is  more  carefully  harvested;  his  breed 
of  pigs  is  celebrated;  his  chickens  are  wonderful— for  the 
books  tell  him  the  best  to  buy.  He  has  learning  and 
science  to  hitch  to  his  cart,  and  they  "homeward  from 
the  field"  bring  him  twice  the  crop  that  ignorance  and 
prejudice  draw. 

Above  all,  he  is  leading  a  happy,  healthy,  and  inde- 
pendent life.  To  be  sure,  his  hands  are  hard  and  some- 
what less  white  than  they  were.  But  polo  and  cricket 


A  PROFESSION   FOR   OUR   BOYS.  477 

would  have  ruined  his  hands.  His  figure  is  erect,  and  his 
face  is  ruddy.  He  has  not  lost  his  talent  in  the  elegant 
drawing  room,  but  can  still  dance  the  German  to  admira- 
tion. He  is  doing  a  great  work  and  setting  a  good 
example;  for  he  is,  as  we  Americans  say,  "making  it 
pay."  To  be  sure,  he  has  a  great  taste  for  a  farmer's 
life.  No  one  should  go  into  it  who  has  not.  But  what 
a  certainty  it  is!  Seed-time  and  harvest  never  fail. 
Wall  street  sometimes  does. 

It  would  seem,  while  there  is  so  much  to  be  done  in 
America  with  her  railroads,  oil-wells,  mines,  farms,  and 
wheat- fields,  her  numerous  industries  and  requirements, 
that  no  man  need  be  poor.  Our  sons  can  find  something 
to  do,  something  to  turn  a  hand  to. 

The  teaching  of  home  should  be  in  this  particular  age 
of  the  world  to  inculcate  "plain  living  and  high  think- 
ing" in  our  sons.  That  is  what  they  need  to  be  great 
and  good  men,  and  useful  citizens. 


.  •  Wife 


IFE,  is  said  to  be  the  most  agreea- 
ble and  delightful  name  in  nature. 
A  woman  indeed  ventures  much 
when  she  assumes  it,  for  it  is  to 
her  the  final  throw  for  happiness 
or  unhappiness.    Be  she  ever  so  good, 
so  gifted,  so  true,  so  noble,  she  may 
marry  a  man  who  will  disgrace  her  and  make 
her  unhappy;    she  has  no  security    whatever 
against  the  most  cruel  fate. 

And  home  must  be  her  battle-ground.  The 
man  has  the  world  before  him,  where  to 
choose;  therefore,  an  unhappy  marriage  is  but 
one  bitter  drop  in  his  full  cup.  With  the  wife, 
it  is  the  whole  draught.  Let  her  weigh  well  the 
dangers  of  the  future;  even  with  prudence  she  may  not 
escape  misfortune. 

It  is  well  if  she  can  always  think  her  husband  wise, 
whether  he  is  or  not.  She  is  a  happy  woman  who  can 
make  her  husband  always  a  hero.  She  is  happiest  who 
is  humblest,  and  who  takes  a  pleasure  in  looking  up. 
Not  that  we  would  ignore  or  despise  the  moral  beauty  of 
great  courage  in  women  or  a  proper  belief  in  themselves. 


THE  GOOD  WIFE.  479 

The  rare  heights  which  women  have  reached  through 
their  struggles,  and  by  means  of  their  self-dependence 
and  courage,  are  to  be  regarded  with  awe  and  admiration. 

The  trouble  is,  that  women  have  not  quite  the  courage 
of  their  opinions.  They  have  a  certain  degree  of  courage, 
and  then  they  halt.  This  often  puts  a  woman  in  a  peril- 
ous attitude  of  indecision.  A  woman  may  wish  to  keep 
her  manners  at  the  true  level  of  social  restriction,  and 
yet  she  may  have  longings  for  a  higher  sphere. 

This  very  ambition  to  be  better,  wiser,  more  free  to 
act  out  her  own  character,  may  in  the  attitude  of  wife 
make  her  uneasy  and  uncomfortable.  There  are  great 
characters  who  are  cheerful  in  a  lonely  adherence  to  the 
right.  There  are  others  which  must  have  the  sympathy 
and  love  and  admiration  of  those  near  them,  or  they 
are  miserable. 

They  can  not  help  this  uneasiness,  this  belief  that  they 
were  born  for  other  duties  than  the  chronicling  of  small 
beer,  and  yet  they  do  not  like  to  move  out  of  the  beaten 
track,  knowing  very  well  that  the  people  who  govern  the 
world,  and  who  are  respected,  are  those  who  move  in  the 
conventional  track,  shocking  nobody— souls  which  find 
their  highest  aspirations  satisfied  with  the  making  of 
afghans  and  the  embroidery  of  tidies. 

Women,  however,  are  obliged,  like  men,  to  live  out 
their  own  natures,  and  to  use  their  talents  as  men  are. 
Talent  and  spirit  will  not  slumber  or  sleep.  Irrespective 
of  ridicule  and  regardless  of  happiness,  a  great  woman 
must  manifest  her  intellectual  or  moral  supremacy. 
Happy  for  the  gifted  woman,  if  there  be  a  vital  refine- 


480  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

ment  in  her  mind  which  keeps  her  from  making  her  gifts 
but  illustrations  of  her  weaknesses. 

A  good  wife,  if  it  ever  occurs  to  her  that  her  husband 
is  her  inferior,  conceals  the  fact  religiously;  many  a 
vii  ty  wife  has  put  good  stories  into  her  husband's  lips — 
;i  forgivable  deceit.  Women  have  the  talent  of  ready 
utterance  to  much  greater  perfection  than  men;  they  are 
quicker- witted;  they  have  more  ready  tact.  A  wife's 
mind  has  traveled  over  the  whole  journey,  and  started 
home  again,  often  before  the  husband  has  gone  ten  miles; 
but  she  has  (or  should  have)  the  sense  to  keep  silent 
until  he  has  caught  up  with  her. 

No  women  are  so  detestable  as  those  who  make  ' '  game ' ' 
of  their  husbands  in  public,  who  show  them  up  to  the 
world,  and  exhibit  their  defects.  If  a  husband  speaks 
bad  grammar,  his  wife  should  ignore  the  fact,  and  bid 
him  discourse  as  if  he  were  a  nightingale.  She  honors 
herself  by  concealing  his  defects.  She  degrades  herself 
if  she  lowers  him.  There  are  disinterestedness  and  self- 
devotion  in  a  woman's  character,  sometimes,  of  which  a 
man  seems  incapable.  She  should  show  it  all  as  a  wife. 

However  badly  wives  behave  in  prosperity,  the  authors 
and  philosophers  do  give  them  credit  for  behaving  well 
in  adversity.  They  show  then  that  in  the  vainest  and 
most  frivolous  heart  "there  is  a  spark  of  heavenly  fire 
which  beams  and  blazes  in  the  dark  hours  of  adversity." 

•'  Women  are  in  their  natures  far  more  gay  and  joyous 
than  men,  whether  it  be  that  their  blood  is  more  refined, 
their  fibers  more  delicate,  and  their  animal  spirits  more 
light  and  volatile,  or  whether,  as  some  have  imagined, 


THE  GOOD   WIFE.  481 

there  may  not  be  a  kind  of  sex  in  the  very  soul.  As 
vivacity  is  the  gift  of  women,  so  is  gravity  that  of  man." 

Women  are  very  fond  of  admiration.  They  love  flat- 
tery and  fine  clothes,  and  grow  frivolous,  almost  from 
the  very  necessity  of  the  case.  The  worst  faults  of 
women  are  fed  by  the  admiration  of  men,  for  the  very 
youngest  girl  is  not  long  in  seeing  that  her  prettiest 
and  most  frivolous  companion  is  assured  of  the  highest 
social  success. 

As  a  wife,  she  must  sometimes  observe  that  her  hus- 
band is  attracted  by  the  very  faults  which  he  most  dep- 
recates in  her,  and  that,  if  his  homage  can  be  won  from 
her,  it  is  by  the  exhibition  of  qualities  which  her  own 
self-respect  would  prevent  her  from  exhibiting. 

So,  from  first  to  last,  a  good  wife  has  need  of  all  her 
virtue,  all  her  strength,  and  all  her  good  sense.  She 
must  put  a  thousand  disappointments  and  little  injuries 
and  small  injustices  in  her  pocket.  She  may  be  very 
much  assured,  if  she  keeps  up  an  imperturbable 
good  temper,  serenity,  and  composure,  that  Monsieur 
will  be  won  back  at  last,  and  admire  her  more  than  he 
has  done  Madam  Fugatif. 

The  good  wife  accepts  her  husband's  dictum  as  to  the 
scale  of  splendor  on  which  she  shall  arrange  her  house. 
She  learns  from  him  how  much  she  shall  spend;  she 
helps  him  to  economize;  she  even  sometimes  restricts  his 
too  ardent  fancy  in  the  way  of  opera-boxes  and  pictures. 
A  wife  of  frugal  mind  is  a  great  help  to  a  man,  if  she  be 
not  mean.  A  miserly  woman  is  a  contradiction  in  terms, 
for  women  should  be  "  lomn ;;  and  giving" 

As  a  good  wife,  a  woman  brings  up  her  children  to 

31 


482  WHAT  CATST  A  WOMAN  DO. 

respect  their  father,  to  obey  him,  to  accept  his  advice 
rather  than  her  own;  to  be  the  vice-regent  in  the  house 
is  her  chosen  position.  Never  does  she  secretly,  as  some 
bad  wives  do,  plot  against  his  known  wishes.  Religion, 
politics,  business,  social  position,  expenditure,  —  she 
allows  him  to  decide  all  these  things,  if  he  wishes  to  do 
so.  It  is  a  man's  prerogative. 

She  reserves  the  right  to  think  for  herself;  to,  in  a 
measure,  lead  her  own  life,  choose  her  own  books,  hor 
own  amusements,  and  her  own  friends;  and  her  home  is 
a  much  happier  one  if  she  brings  into  it  some  element 
of  variety,  for,  as  we  have  said,  each  member  of  the 
home  should  be  an  individual. 

Society  is  in  the  hands  of  the  women  almost  exclu- 
sively in  this  country.  Most  men  like  to  see  their  wives 
shine  in  society;  it  gratifies  their  pride.  Good  company, 
lively  conversation,  brightening  up  the  wits,  makes  a 
wife  twice  as  agreeable  a  companion.  Society,  too,  is 
the  true  sphere  of  many  women;  they  are  lost  out  of  it. 
Without  carrying  it  too  far,  women  are  much  better  for 
a  social  taste.  They  get  moody  else.  In  social  life  diffi- 
culties are  met  and  conquered,  restraints  of  temper 
become  necessary,  and  striving  to  behave  rightly  in  these 
emergencies  will  help  to  fit  a  woman  to  behave  rightly  at 
home.  She  is  useful  to  others,  and  is  improving  herself. 
If  she  is  always  at  home,  she  is  apt  to  become  morbid 
and  introspective. 

She  should  be  at  home  when  her  husband  wants  her. 
He  is  the  first  society  which  she  should  seek,  nor  should 
she  ever  accept  with  patience  any  indignity  to  him.  He 
may  not  be  as  great  an  ornament  to  society  as  she  is,  no 


THE  GOOD   WIFE.  483 

matter;  he  must  go  with  her,  and  to  him  she  always 
shows  a  most  respectful  observance.  And  she  must  not 
break  her  heart  if,  after  treating  her  like  a  goddess,  he 
comes  down  and  treats  her  like  a  woman.  It  is  not  in 
the  nature  of  man  to  keep  up  on  the  highest  stilts  of 
admiration  and  love  all  the  time.  She  must  accept  his 
more  commonplace  liking. 

And  let  her  preserve  a  disposition  to  be  pleased, 
not  slighting  the  humble  blessing  of  an  every-day 
good  fellowship. 

A  good  wife  remembers  her  husband's  dignity,  and  is 
more  than  ever  careful  not  to  compromise  it.  She  is  more 
careful  than  when  she  was  a  girl,  because  then  laughter, 
playfulness,  and  coquetry  were  allowable;  now,  for  every 
fault  of  hers,  husband  and  children  must  suffer.  She  can 
not  be  too  considerate  of  them. 

A  man  of  wit  and  sense,  who  looks  upon  his  wife  with 
pleasure,  confidence,  and  admiration,  will  have  few  com- 
ments to  make  on  the  amount  of  pleasure  she  may  take 
in  the  company  of  other  men.  A  jealous  husband  is  a 
tyrant,  whom  no  propriety  of  conduct  can  appease.  The 
races  of  the  Othellos,  the  Borgias,  and  the  Cencis  are  not 
extinct.  A  woman  cannot  supply  all  the  failings  of  the 
man  who  loves  her  and  whom  she  loves,  but  it  is  her  duty 
to  try  to  do  so. 

A  good  wife  who  is  married  to  a  great  man — the 
"people's  idol,"  a  favorite  clergyman,  a  noted  orator,  or 
an  Adonis — has  a  hard  part  to  act.  The  world  owns  her 
idol,  and  she  has  to  accept  the  quota  which  the  world 
leaves.  She  has  to  see  him  adored  by  other  women;  to 
know  that,  officially,  he  must  accept  the  confidences  of 


484  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

other  women  which  do  not  come  to  her;  she  sees  the 
world  seeking  him  first,  and  her  perhaps  not  at  all.  This 
is  a  very  trying  position.  The  wives  of  noted  authors, 
particularly  in  England,  where  the  wife  is  not  always 
invited  with  her  husband,  have  had  some  rather  trying 
experiences  of  this  kind.  Would  that  they  could  all 
behave  as  well  as  did  Moore's  Bessy  ! 

It  is  the  glory  of  woman  that  she  was  sent  into  the 
world  to  live  for  others  rather  than  herself,  to  live,  yes, 
and  to  die  for  them.  Let  her  never  forget  that  she  was 
sent  here  to  make  man  better,  to  temper  his  greed,  con- 
trol his  avarice,  soften  his  temper,  refine  his  grosser 
nature,  and  teach  him  that  there  is  something  better  than 
success.  These  thoughts  will  come  to  help  her  in  the 
lonely  hours  when  he  is  receiving  homage  and  she  is  not. 
She  may  be  apt  to  remember,  too,  that  she  has  been  his 
inspiration,  his  guiding  star,  that  but  for  her  he  would 
not  have  been  the  poet,  the  orator,  or  the  preacher. 

There  is  said  to  be  no  burden  on  earth  like  the  foolish 
woman  tied  to  the  competent  man,  with  the  one  excep- 
tion of  the  false  woman.  No  good  wife  would  care  to  fill 
either  of  these  disagreeable  alternatives.  But  many 
women,  otherwise  good  wives,  have  allowed  wounded 
vanity  to  come  in  and  wreck  the  happiness  of  home. 

More  than  one  literary  lion  has  cursed  his  celebrity 
when  it  has  brought  to  him  the  unhappiness  of  home. 
It  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  the  reasons  of  the  separa- 
tion of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dickens. 

The  wife  may  find  that  her  ideal  is  made  of  clay,  and 
of  very  poor  clay  at  that.  But  she  only  makes  hersell 
ridiculous  by  showing  up  his  faults  to  the  world.  What- 


THE   GOOD   WIFE. 


485 


<3ver  else  he  is,  he  is  Jier  husband,  and  there  are  but  few 
faults  which  he  can  commit  of  which  she  should  speak. 
A  wife,  who  finds  that  as  years  go  on  she  and  her  hus- 
band are  drifting  farther  and  farther  apart,  is  indeed 
to  be  pitied. 

As  we  grow  old,  we  shall  need  each  other  more  and 
more,  the  faltering  steps  down  the  hill  should  be  taken 
hand  in  hand,  and  we  should  invoke  all  the  amenities  of 
home  and  all  its  capabilities  to  draw  us  together  again. 
We  should  purify  the  current  of  earthly  affection,  which 
is  growing  turbid  by  the  water  of  life,  remembering  that 
true  passion  comes  first,  but  true  love  last. 


T  is  one  of  the  misfortunes  of  our 
American  way  of  living,  that  the 
head  of  the  house,  the  father — he 
who  is  the  support,  the  mainstay, 
the  highest  central  figure — should 
be  scarcely  able  to  live  with  his 
family  at  all.  If  he  is  a  busy  man,  earning 
their  daily  bread,  he  must  leave  them  after  a 
hasty  breakfast,  to  meet  them  again  at  a  late 
dinner  with  a  chance  of  seeing  them  in  the 
evening;  but,  if  a  club  man,  or  anxious  for 
the  opportunity  of  going  out  in  the  evening 
for  improvement  or  change,  he  does  not  see 
much  of  his  family  even  then.  The  younger 
children  get  to  regard  him  as  a  feature  of  Sun- 
days, and  perhaps  associate  him  with  the  unpleasant 
slavery  of  sitting  still  in  church.  A  loving  and  kind 
father  will,  of  course,  impress  himself  upon  his  family 
and  earn  their  affection  and  respect  even  in  these  brief 
intervals;  but  it  is  too  little  for  the  proper  emphasis  of 
an  affection  which  should  be  almost  the  first  in  our  hearts. 
There  must  be  something  radically  wrong  in  the 

486 


THE   GOOD   FATHETC.  487 

arrangements  of  life  when  this  can  happen.  Either 
women  should  enter  more  into  the  business  of  life  or  man 
should  work  less,  for  a  father  is  the  natural  teacher, 
guardian,  and  companion  of  his  family.  We  will,  for  the 
moment,  ignore  the  fact  that  he  may  desire  the  rest  and 
the  comforts  of  the  home  which  he  supports  but  scarcely 
enjoys;  we  will  consider  only  the  loss  to  his  children  of 
his  society. 

The  father  is,  of  course,  the  natural  and  the  best  com- 
panion for  his  boys;  to  teach  them  to  swim,  to  ride,  to 
master  the  common  knowledge  and  accomplishments  of 
life,  should  be  his  pleasure.  He  should  be  their  teacher 
in  the  arts  of  gunnery  and  the  noble  science  of  the  fish- 
ing-rod. They  ought  to  be  able  to  remember  him  as  the 
story-teller  and  companion  of  their  sports,  the  best  guide, 
and  the  most  agreeable  company  that  they  will  ever 
know.  How  they  hang  on  his  lips  as  he  tells  them  of  his 
own  boyhood,  his  sufferings  at  the  poorly  fed  boarding- 
school,  where  he  had  to  gather  raw  turnips  in  the  field! 
How  they  like  to  hear  of  the  size  of  his  first  trout;  how 
magnificent  he  looks  to  them  as  he  tells  of  his  shooting 
a  deer!  How  much,  as  they  grow  older,  they  enjoy  his 
college  stories!  His  early  struggles  and  conquests  give 
them  heart  for  the  same  strife  and  victory  which  they  are 
about  to  plunge  into. 

It  is  a  very  happy  circumstance  also  for  the  grown 
daughters  if  their  father,  after  having  petted  them  as 
little  girls,  after  helping  to  solve  the  difficult  question  in 
arithmetic,  after  construing  the  Latin,  and  giving  them 
a  lit  tie  sweep  of  his  strong  penmanship,  is  still  young  and 


488  WHAT   CAN   A    WOMAN   DO. 

fresh  enough  to  go  out  into  society  with  them.  A  young- 
minded  papa  is  a  great  boon  to  a  daughter. 

But  here  again  comes  in  a  national  mistake.  Our  best 
men  will  rarely  go  to  parties;  they  leave  all  that  work  to 
the  mamma.  Fatigued  they  no  doubt  are  by  their  hard 
fight  with  the  world,  and  society  offers  them  no  seat, 
no  welcome. 

When  our  middle-aged  men  will  make  a  point  of  going 
into  society,  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  they  become  a 
part  of  it,  and  the  women  will  find,  what  many  of  them 
have  already  found,  that  they  are  much  better  worth 
talking  to  than  the  boys. 

A  good  father  owes  it  to  his  wife  and  children  to  thus 
keep  pace  with  them  in  their  amusements,  not  allowing 
himself  to  get  rusty,  or  to  have  an  entirely  different  set 
of  ideas  and  occupations.  They  cannot  enter  into  his 
professional  or  business  life.  When  he  leaves  after 
breakfast,  he  becomes  a  mystery  to  them.  But  he  can, 
on  his  return,  go  with  them  to  the  theatre,  the  party,  or 
the  concert,  and  should  try  to  do  so  to  make  himself  a 
part  of  them. 

They,  in  their  turn,  the  sons  and  daughters,  should 
have  every  delicate  attention,  every  agreeable  accom- 
plishment, ready  to  make  home  delightful  to  the  father 
who  works  for  them.  There  is  something  pathetic  in  the 
idea  of  the  chained  slave,  chained  to  the  oar,  to  whom  all 
look  for  money,  clothing,  food.  If  he  is  a  millionaire, 
all  goes  well,  but  if  he  is  a  struggling  man,  threatened 
with  ruin,  knowing  that  so  long  as  he  lives  he  must  pull 
up  the  stony  hill,  the  only  reward  when  he  reaches  the 
top,  the  going  down  the  other  side,  it  is  sad  enough.  It 


THE   GOOD   FATHEK.  489 

is  wonderful  that  so  many  bear  it  patiently,  and  accept 
it  as  the  inevitable  doom! 

What  fireside  can  be  made  too  easy  for  such  a  man  ? 
What  good  dinners,  cheerful  faces,  what  voices  full  of 
obedience,  should  greet  the  hard-working,  patient  man! 
His  newspaper  should  be  aired,  his  slippers  ready,  his 
particular  magazine  in  waiting.  All  the  disagreeable 
remarks  about  bills  and  the  coal  should  be  deferred  until 
after  breakfast  next  morning — that  moment  conceded  by 
all  for  disagreeable  communications.  He  should  be  for- 
given if  he  is  abstracted  and  silent.  His  cares  may  be 
greater  than  he  can  bear,  but  he  should  be  tenderly 
moved  to  talk,  and  be  merry,  at  least  cheerful. 

We  aD.  know  families  in  which  the  mother  and  daugh- 
ters are  in  conspiracy  against  the  father,  where  he  is 
looked  upon  simply  as  a  bank  to  be  robbed,  where  the 
buying  of  expensive  dresses  must  go  on,  whether  they 
can  be  paid  for  or  not,  and  where  the  asking  for  and 
obtaining  of  money  is  all  the  need  they  have  of  him. 
Henry  James,  Jr.,  has  drawn  the  picture  in  "The  Pen- 
sion Beauregard,"  his  companion-piece  to  "Daisy  Mil- 
ler." Such  rapacity  and  vulgarity  are  too  common. 
They  belong  to  the  abuses  of  home. 

But  we  know  many  another  home  where  there  are 
silent  economies  practiced,  heart-breaking  ones  some- 
times, rather  than  to  "ask  father  for  money;1'  where 
each  one  feels  a  personal  indebtedness  to  the  hard-work- 
ing head  of  the  house,  and  where  each  one  sighs  for  the 
time  when  he  or  she  can  help  along. 

The  household  is  the  home  of  the  man  as  well  as  of 
the  child.  To  it  he  should  bring  all  that  is  best  in  him; 


490  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

his  culture,  if  he  has  any,  at  least,  his  lofty,  true 
thoughts,  his  benevolence  and  refinement.  He  should 
not,  in  getting  rich,  sacrifice  himself.  This  is  too  great  a 
price  to  pay  for  bread  and  lodging,  fine  hangings  and 
fine  clothes.  A  business  man  should  take  time  to  read, 
else  when  he  becomes  a  man  of  leisure,  he  will  find  that 
he  cannot  read.  He  must  bring  into  his  household  that 
spirit  which  is  understanding,  health  and  self-help. 
There  was  never  a  country  which  offered  to  the  working 
man,  the  business  man,  the  true  man,  such  opportunity 
for  a  happy  home  as  this.  He  can,  in  the  first  place,  be 
educated  without  money;  he  can  go  to  work  without  it. 
He  can  begin  without  patronage;  the  field  is  as  open  to 
the  poor  boy  as  to  the  rich  one.  It  is  character  which 
determines  everything. 

It  is  sad  to  be  obliged  to  confess  that  many  a  home, 
full  of  prosperity,  full  of  rosy  children,  is  still  unhappy 
because  of  some  mistake  of  father  or  mother,  or  both, 
some  unruly  tongue,  some  implacable  temper!  It  seems 
as  if  a  demon  stood  at  the  door  and  warned  happiness 
away.  Nothing  can  be  urged  in  such  a  case  but  the  old, 
old  remedy  of  good  manners,  manners  which  shall  com- 
pel an  outward  decency,  and  which  will  make  one  hesi- 
tate to  exhibit  the  shame  of  an  open  quarrel.  To  see 
one's  parents  quarrel  is  the  most  dreadful  suffering,  the 
most  acute  mortification,  to  a  family  of  children. 

"Many  a  marriage  has  commenced,  like  the  morning 
red,  and  perished  like  a  mushroom.  Wherefore?  Because 
the  married  pair  neglected  to  be  as  agreeable  to  each 
other  after  their  union  as  they  were  before  it,"  says  that 
intelligent  old  maid  Fredrika  Bremer.  Old  maids  always 


THE  GOOD  FATHER.  491 

write  well  about  marriage  and  the  education  of  children. 
Perhaps  the  looker-on  is  the  best  judge  of  the  game. 

The  quarrels  of  married  people  who  really  love  each 
other,  and  which  come  from  irritated  temper,  are  soon 
healed,  and  the  daily  life  goes  on  without  a  sensible  break 
between  them.  But,  for  the  sake  of  their  home,  these 
dissensions  should  be  avoided  as  much  as  possible.  They 
both  lose  dignity  and  place  in  the  ideas  of  their  family, 
and  the  servants  are  not  as  apt  to  obey. 

A  father  should  never  under  any  circumstances  permit 
his  children  to  treat  him  with  disrespect.  They  will 
never  forgive  him  for  it  even  if  he  forgives.  Nor  should 
he  desert  his  post  as  captain  of  the  ship.  In  those 
unhappy  families,  where,  as  in  the  tragedy  of  "King 
Lear,"  we  see  the  result  of  power  given  away,  there  is  a 
perpetual  lesson  of  the  folly  of  a  father's  renunciation  of 
his  power.  Happy  for  him  if  in  his  group  of  daughters 
there  be  one  Cordelia  to  balance  Regan  and  Goneril. 

The  wise  father  will  so  graduate  his  expenditure,  if 
living  on  an  income,  that  his  expected  expenditure  will 
reach  but  two-thirds  of  his  income,  knowing  well  that  the 
unexpected  will  consume  the  other  third.  The  trouble 
is,  in  America,  that  no  one  knows  exactly  what  his 
income  is.  In  England  he  can  tell  to  the  quarter  of  a 
penny,  even  for  his  great-grandchildren.  But  here,  where 
by  far  the  largest  number  live  from  hand  to  mouth, 
thorough  economy  is  almost  impossible.  Things  look 
well  one  year,  and  a  hospitable  table,  good  clothes,  and 
fine  carriages  are  not  impossible.  Things  look  very  much 
less  well  the  next  year,  and  these  now  necessaries  of  life 
become  impossible;  so  the  business  of  making  one's 


492 


WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 


house  a  scene  of  consistent  expenditure,  without  miserly 
prudence  or  injudicious  luxury,  is  a  very  difficult  one. 
Our  exchequer  resembles  our  climate — heavy  rains  or  a 
long  drought,  We  do  not  know  which  to  calculate  upon. 
All  these  facts  work  against  a  thoroughly  understood 
and  possible  economy.  All  that  the  good  father  can  do 
is  to  aim  at  making  his  children  feel  that  home  is  the 
happiest  place  in  the  world,  as  he  and  their  mother 
should  aim  at  making  it  the  best. 


"LOOKING   TOWARD    SUNSET. 


TRYING  crisis  in  life  is  to  feel 
that  you  have  had  your  fair  half  at 
least  of  the  ordinary  term  of  years 
allotted  to  mortals ;  that  you  have 
no  right  to  expect  to  be  any  hand- 
somer, or  stronger,  or  happier  than 
you  are  now  ;  that  you  have  climbed 
to  the  summit  of  life,  whence  the  next  step 
must  necessarily  be  decadence.  The  air  may 
be  as  fresh,  the  view  as  grand,  still  you  know 
that,  slower  or  faster,  you  are  going  down  hill. 
It  is  not  a  pleasant  descent  at  the  beginning. 
It  is  rather  trying,  when,  from  long  habit,  you 
unwittingly  speak  of  yourself  as  a  "girl,"  to 
detect  a  covert  smile  on  the  face  of  your  interlocutor ;  or, 
when  led  by  some  chance  excitement  to  deport  your- 
self in  an  ultra- youthful  manner,  some  instinct  warns 
you  that  you  are  making  yourself  ridiculous ;  or,  catch- 
ing in  some  strange  looking-glass  the  face  you  are  too 
familiar  with  to  notice  much,  ordinarily,  you  suddenly 
become  aware  that  it  is  not  a  young  face,  and  will  never 
be  a  young  face  again.  With  most  people,  the  passing 
from  maturity  to  middle  age  is  so  gradual  as  to  be  almost 


493 


494  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

imperceptible  to  the  individual  concerned.  There  is  no 
denying  this  fact,  and  it  ought  to  silence  many  an  ill- 
natured  remark  upon  those  unlucky  ones  who  insist  upon 
remaining  "young  ladies  of  a  certain  age."  It  is  very 
dimcult  for  a  woman  to  recognize  that  she  is  growing  old ; 
and  to  all,  this  recognition  cannot  but  be  fraught  with 
considerable  pain.  Even  the  most  sensible  woman  cannot 
fairly  put  aside  her  youth,  with  all  it  has  enjoyed,  or  lost, 
or  missed,  and  regard  it  as  henceforth  to  be  considered  a 
thing  gone  by,  without  a  momentary  spasm  of  the  heart. 

To  "grow  old  gracefully"  is  a  good  and  beautiful 
thing ;  to  grow  old  worthily  is  a  better.  And  the  first 
effort  to  that  end  is  to  become  reconciled  to  the  fact  of 
youth's  departure;  to  have  faith  in  the  wisdom  of  that 
which  we  call  change,  but  which  is  in  truth  progression ; 
to  follow  openly  and  fearlessly,  in  ourselves  and  our 
daily  life,  the  same  law  which  makes  spring  pass  into 
summer,  summer  into  autumn,  and  autumn  into  winter, 
preserving  an  especial  beauty  and  fitness  in  each  of  the 
four. 

If  women  could  only  believe  it,  there  is  a  wonderful 
beauty  even  in  growing  old.  The  charm  of  expression, 
arising  from  softened  temper  or  ripened  intellect,  often 
atones  amply  for  the  loss  of  form  and  coloring ;  conse- 
quently, to  those  who  could  never  boast  of  either  of  these 
latter,  years  give  much  more  than  they  take  away.  A 
sensitive  person  often  requires  half  a  lifetime  to  get  thor- 
oughly used  to  this  corporeal  machine ;  to  attain  a  whole- 
some indifference  both  to  its  defects  and  perfections  ;  and  * 
to  learn  at  last  what  nobody  would  acquire  from  any 
teacher  but  experience,  that  it  is  the  mind  alone  which 


LOOKING  TOWAED   SUNSET.  495 

is  of  any  consequence.  With,  good  temper,  sincerity, 
and  a  moderate  stock  of  brains,  or  even  with  the  two 
former  only,  any  sort  of  a  body  can  in  time  be  made  a 
useful,  respectable,  and  agreeable  traveling-dress  for  the 
soul.  Many  a  one  who  was  absolutely  plain  in  youth, 
thus  grows  pleasant  and  well-looking  in  declining  years. 
You  will  seldom  find  anybody,  not  ugly  in  mind,  who  is 
repulsively  ugly  in  person  after  middle  life. 

So  it  is  with  character.  However  we  may  talk  about 
people  being  "not  a  whit  altered,"  "just  the  same  as 
ever ; "  the  fact  is,  not  one  of  us  is,  or  can  be,  for  long 
together,  exactly  the  same.  The  body  we  carry  with  us 
is  not  the  identical  body  we  were  born  with,  or  the  one 
we  supposed  ours  seven  years  ago  ;  and  our  spiritual 
self,  which  inhabits  it,  also  goes  through  perpetual 
change  and  renewal.  In  moral  and  mental,  as  well  as  in 
physical  growth,  it  is  impossible  to  remain  stationary. 
If  we  do  not  advance,  we  retrograde.  Talk  of  being 
"  too  late  to  improve,"  "  too  old  to  learn  ! "  A  human 
being  should  be  improving  with  every  day  of  a  lifetime  ; 
and  will  probably  have  to  go  on  learning  throughout  all 
the  ages  of  immortality. 

One  of  the  pleasures  of  growing  old  is  to  know,  to 
acquire,  to  find  out,  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  causes 
of  things  ;  this  gradually  becomes  a  necessity  and  an 
exquisite  delight.  We  are  able  to  pass  out  of  our  own 
small  daily  sphere,  and  to  take  interest  in  the  marvellous 
government  of  the  universe  ;  to  see  the  grand  workings 
of  cause  and  effect ;  the  educing  of  good  out  of  apparent 
evil ;  the  clearing  away  of  the  knots  in  tangled  destinies, 
general  or  individual ;  the  wonderful  agency  of  time, 


496  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

change,  and  progress  in  ourselves,  in  those  surrounding 
us,  and  in  the  world  at  large.  In  small  minds,  this  feel- 
ing expends  itself  in  meddling,  gossiping,  scandal-mon- 
gering ;  but  such  are  merely  abortive  developments  of  a 
right  noble  quality,  which,  properly  guided,  results  in 
benefits  incalculable  to  the  individual  and  to  society. 
Undoubtedly  the  after-half  of  life  is  the  best  working- 
time.  Beautiful  is  youth's  enthusiasm,  and  grand  are 
its  achievements;  but  the  most  solid  and  permanent 
good  is  done  by  the  persistent  strength  and  wide  expe- 
rience of  middle  age.  Contentment  rarely  comes  till 
then ;  not  mere  resignation,  a  passive  acquiescence  in 
what  cannot  be  removed,  but  active  contentment.  This 
is  a  blessing  cheaply  bought  by  a  personal  share  in  that 
daily  account  of  joy  and  pain,  which  the  longer  one  lives 
the  more  one  sees  is  pretty  equally  balanced  in  all  lives. 
Young  people  enjoy  "  the  top  of  life  "  ecstatically,  either 
in  prospect  or  fruition ;  but  they  are  very  seldom  con- 
tented. It  is  not  possible.  Not  till  the  cloudy  maze  is 
half  traveled  through,  and  we  begin  to  see  the  object 
and  purpose  of  it,  can  we  be  really  content. 

The  doubtful  question,  to  marry  or  not  to  marry,  is  by 
this  time  generally  settled.  A  woman's  relations  with 
the  other  sex  imperceptibly  change  their  character,  or 
slowly  decline.  There  are  exceptions ;  old  lovers  who 
have  become  friends,  or  friends  whom  no  new  loveVould 
make  swerve  from  the  fealty  of  years ;  still  it  usually 
happens  so.  The  society  of  honorable,  well-informed 
gentlemen,  who  meet  a  lady  on  the  easy  neutral  ground 
of  mutual  esteem,  is  undoubtedly  pleasant,  but  the  time 
has  passed  when  any  one  of  them  is  the  one  necessary  to 


LOOKING  TOWAED   SUNSET.  497 

her  happiness.  If  she  wishes  to  retain  influence  over 
mankind,  she  must  do  it  by  means  different  from  those 
employed  in  youth.  Even  then,  be  her  wit  ever  so 
sparkling,  her  influence  ever  so  pure  and  true,  she  will 
often  find  her  listener  preferring  bright  eyes  to  intel- 
lectual conversation,  and  the  satisfaction  of  his  heart  to 
the  improvement  of  his  mind.  And  who  can  blame 
him?  The  only  way  for  a  woman  to  preserve  the 
unfeigned  respect  of  men,  is  to  let  them  see  that  she  can 
do  without  either  their  attention  or  their  admiration.  The 
waning  coquette,  the  ancient  beauty,  as  well  as  the  ordi- 
nary woman,  who  has  had  her  fair  share  of  both  love  and 
liking,  must  show  by  her  demeanor  that  she  has  learned 
this. 

It  is  reckoned  among  the  compensations  of  time  that 
we  suffer  less  as  we  grow  older;  that  pain,  like  joy, 
becomes  dulled  by  repetition,  or  by  the  callousness  that 
comes  with  years.  In  one  sense  this  is  true.  If  there  is 
no  joy  like  the  joy  of  youth,  the  rapture  of  a  first  love, 
the  thrill  of  a  first  ambition,  God's  great  mercy  has  also 
granted  that  there  is  no  anguish  like  youth's  pain;  so 
total,  so  hopeless,  blotting  out  earth  and  heaven,  falling 
down  upon  the  whole  being  like  a  stone.  This  never 
comes  in  after  life ;  because  the  sufferer,  if  he  or  she 
have  lived  to  any  purpose  at  all,  has  learned  that  God 
never  meant  any  human  being  to  be  crushed  under  any 
calamity,  like  a  blind  worm  under  a  stone. 

For  lesser  evils,  the  fact  that  our  interests  gradually 
take  a  wider  range,  allows  more  scope  for  the  healing 
power  of  compensation.  Also  our  loves,  hates,  sympa- 


498  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

thies,  and  prejudices,  having  assumed  a  more  rational 
and  softened  shape,  do  not  present  so  many  angles  for 
the  rough  attrition  of  the  world.  Likewise,  with  the  eye 
of  faith  we  have  come  to  view  life  in  its  entireness, 
instead  of  puzzling  over  its  disjointed  parts,  which  were 
never  meant  to  be  made  wholly  clear  to  mortal  eye.  And 
that  calm  twilight,  which,  by  nature's  kindly  law,  so 
soon  begins  to  creep  over  the  past,  throws  over  all  things 
a  softened  coloring,  which  transcends  and  forbids  regret. 
Another  reason  why  woman  has  greater  capacity  for 
usefulness  in  middle  life  than  in  any  previous  portion  of 
her  existence,  is  her  greater  independence.  She  will 
have  learned  to  understand  herself,  mentally  and  bodily  ; 
to  be  mistress  over  herself.  Nor  is  this  a  small  advan- 
tage ;  for  it  often  takes  years  to  comprehend,  and  to  act 
upon  when  comprehended,  the  physical  peculiarities  of 
one's  own  constitution.  Much  valetudinarianism  among 
women  arises  from  ignorance  or  neglect  of  the  commonest 
sanitary  laws ;  and  from  indifference  to  that  grand  pre- 
servative of  a  healthy  body,  a  well-controlled  and 
healthy  mind.  Both  of  these  are  more  attainable  in 
middle  age  than  in  youth  ;  and  therefore  the  sort  of  hap- 
piness they  bring,  a  solid,  useful,  available  happiness,  is 
more  in  her  power  then  than  at  any  earlier  ^period.  And 
why  ?  Because  she  has  ceased  to  think  principally  of 
herself  and  her  own  pleasures ;  because  happiness  has 
itself  become  to  her  an  accidental  thing,  which  the  good 
God  may  give  or  withhold,  as  He  sees  most  fit  for  her, 
and  most  adapted  to  the  work  for  which  he  means  to  use 
her  in  her  generation.  This  conviction  of  being  at  once 
an  active  and  a  passive  a^ent  is  surely  consecration 


LOOKING  TOWARD   SUNSET.  499 

enough  to  form  the  peace,  nay,  the  happiness,  of  any 
good  woman's  life ;  enough,  be  it  ever  so  solitary,  to  sus- 
tain it  until  the  end.  In  what  manner  such  a  conviction 
should  be  carried  out,  no  one  individual  can  venture  to 
advise.  In  this  age,  woman's  work  is  almost  unlimited, 
when  the  woman  herself  so  chooses.  She  alone  can  be  a 
law  unto  herself ;  deciding  and  acting  according  to  the 
circumstances  in  which  her  lot  is  placed.  And  have  we 
not  many  who  do  so  act  ?  There  are  women  of  property, 
whose  names  are  a  proverb  for  generous  and  wide  char- 
ities ;  whose  riches,  carefully  guided,  flow  into  innumer- 
able channels,  freshening  the  whole  land.  There  are 
women  of  rank  and  influence,  who  use  both,  or  lay  aside 
both,  in  the  simplest  humility,  for  labors  of  love,  which 
level  all  classes,  or  rather  raise  them  all,  to  one  common 
sphere  of  womanhood. 

Many  others,  of  whom  the  world  knows  nothing,  have 
taken  the  wisest  course  that  any  unmarried  woman  can 
take  ;  they  have  made  themselves  a  home  and  a  position ; 
some  as  the  Ladies  Bountiful  of  a  country  neighborhood  ; 
some,  as  elder  sisters,  on  whom  has  fallen  the  bringing 
up  of  whole  families,  and  to  whom  has  been  tacitly 
accorded  4he  headship  of  the  same,  by  the  love  and 
respect  of  more  than  one  generation  thereof.  There  are 
some  who,  as  writers,  painters,  and  professional  women 
generally,  make  the  most  of  whatever  special  gift  is  allot- 
ted to  them ;  believing  that,  whether  it  be  great  or  small, 
it  is  not  theirs,  either  to  lose  or  to  waste,  but  that  they 
must  one  day  render  up  to  the  Master  his  own,  with 
usury. 

I  will  not  deny  that  the  approach  of  old  age  has  its  sad 


500  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

aspect  to  a  woman  who  has  never  married ;  and  who, 
when  her  own  generation  dies  out,  no  longer  retains,  or 
can  expect  to  retain,  any  flesh-and-blood  claim  upon  a 
single  human  being.  When  all  the  downward  ties,  which 
give  to  the  decline  of  life  a  rightful  comfort,  and  the 
interest  in  the  new  generation  which  brightens  it  with  a 
perpetual  hope,  are  to  her  either  unknown,  or  indulged 
in  chiefly  on  one  side.  Of  course  there  are  exceptions, 
where  an  aunt  has  been  almost  like  a  mother,  and  where 
a  loving  and  lovable  great-aunt  is  as  important  a  person- 
age as  any  grandmother.  But,  generally  speaking,  a 
single  woman  must  make  up  her  mind  that  the  close  of 
her  days  will  be  more  or  less  solitary. 

Yet  there  is  a  solitude  which  old  age  feels  to  be  as  nat- 
ural and  satisfying  as  that  rest  which  seems  such  an  irk- 
someness  to  youth,  but  which  gradually  grows  into  the 
best  blessing  of  our  lives ;  and  there  is  another  solitude, 
so  full  of  peace  and  hope,  that  it  is  like  Jacob's  sleep  in 
the  wilderness,  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  of  angels. 

The  extreme  loneliness,  which  afar  off  appears  sad, 
may  prove  to  be  but  as  the  quiet,  dreamy  hour  "  between 
the  lights,"  when  the  day's  work  is  done,  and  we  lean 
back,  closing  our  eyes,  to  think  it  all  over  before  we 
finally  go  to  rest,  or  to  look  forward,  with  faith  and 
hope,  unto  the  coming  Morning. 

A  life  in  which  the  best  has  been  macte  of  all  the 
materials  granted  to  it,  and  through  which  the  hand  of 
the  Great  Designer  can  be  plainly  traced,  whether  its 
web  be  dark  or  bright,  whether  its  pattern  be  clear  or 
clouded,  is  not  a  life  to  be  pitied  ;  for  it  is  a  completed 
life.  It  has  fulfilled  its  appointed  course,  and  returns  to 
the  Giver  of  all  breath,  pure  as  he  gave  it.  Nor  will  he 
forget  it  when  he  counteth  up  his  jewels. 

-MISS  MULOCH. 


s  *  /llaouf  *  a? errjzr)  *  bv  *  JBe>f  eilzle  *  w  nf ers. 


ABILITY. 

EN  need  not   try   where   women 
fail.  — Euripides. 

There  are  many  more  clever 
women  in  the  world  than  men 
think  for ;  our  habit  is  to  despise 
them ;  we  believe  they  do  not 
think  because  they  do  not  contradict  us, 
and  they  are  weak  because  they  do  not 
struggle  and  rise  up  against  us.  A  man 
only  begins  to  know  women  as  he  grows 
old  ;  and,  for  my  part,  my  opinion  of  their 
cleverness  rises  every  day. — Thackeray. 
When  I  see  the  elaborate  study  and 
ingenuity  displayed  by  women  in  the  pur- 
suit of  trifles,  I  feel  no  doubt  of  their 
capacity  for  the  most  herculean  undertakings. — Julia 
Ward  Howe. 

Women  have  more  of  common  sense,  though  less  of 
acquired  capacity,  than  men. — Hazlett. 

This  I  set  down  as  a  positive  truth  :  a  woman  with 
fair  opportunities,  and  without  an  absolute  hump,  may 
marry  whom  she  likes.  Only  let  us  be  thankful  that 

601 


602  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO 

the  darlings  are  like  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  don't 
know  their  own  power. — Thackeray. 

AFFECTIONS. 

A  wise  woman  confides  in  few  persons,  a  cunning  one 
in  none. — Ninon  de  Lenclos. 

A  supreme  love,  a  motive  that  gives  a  sublime  rhythm 
to  a  woman's  life,  and  exalts  habit  into  partnership  with 
the  soul's  highest  needs,  is  not  to  be  had  where  and  how 
she  wills ;  to  know  that  high  initiation,  she  must  often 
tread  where  it  is  hard  to  tread,  and  to  feel  the  chill  air, 
and  watch  through  darkness. — George  Eliot. 

A  woman's  whole  life  is  a  history  of  affections. — 
Washington  Irving. 

Beneath  the  odorous  shade  of  the  boundless  forests  of 
Chili,  the  native  youth  repeats  the  story  of  love  as  sin- 
cerely as  it.  was  ever  chanted  in  the  valley  of  Vaucluse. 
The  affections  of  family  are  not  the  growth  of  civiliz- 
ation.— Bancroft. 

No  padlock,  bolts,  or  bars  can  secure  a  maiden  so  well 
as  her  own  reserve. — Cervantes. 

Our  own  capacity  for  loving,  be  it  pure  and  good,  will 
make  us  beloved. — Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney. 

Men  are  misers,  and  women  prodigal  in  affection. — 
Lamartine. 

Is  not  the  life  of  woman  all  bound  up  in  her  affections  ? 
What  hath  she  to  do  in  this  bleak  world  alone  ?  It  may 
be  well  for  man,  on  his  triumphal  course,  to  move 
uncumbered  by  soft  bonds ;  but  we  were  born  for  love 
and  grief. — Mrs.  Hemans. 

Affection  is  woman's  native  atmosphere. — Lamartine. 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  503 

AFFLICTIONS. 

There  is  strength  deep-bedded  in  our  hearts,  of  which 
we  reck  but  little,  till  the  shafts  of  heaven  have  pierced 
its  fragile  dwelling.  Must  not  earth  be  rent  before  her 
gems  are  found  ? — Mrs.  Hemans. 

The  sorrows  of  beautiful  women  draw  tears  from  our 
purses. — Alphonse  Karr. 

No  man  knows  what  the  wife  of  his  bosom  is — no  man 
knows  what  a  ministering  angel  she  is — until  he  has 
gone  with  her  through  the  fiery  trials  of  this  world. — 
Washington  Irving. 

For  women  are  by  nature  formed  to  feel  some  consola- 
tion when  their  tongue  gives  utterance  to  the  afflictions 
they  endure. — Euripides. 

AMBITION. 

It  is  true  that  men  not  unfrequently  sacrifice  love  to 
ambition,  but  few  women  have  ever  done  this  voluntarily. 
Love  with  them,  as  weighed  against  all  things  else,  will 
kick  the  beam.  Horace  says  that  an  ambitious  man  will 
storm  heaven  itself  in  his  folly.—  Bayard  Taylor. 

It  is  not  love  that  steals  the  heart  from  love  ;  it  is  the 
hard  world  and  its  perplexing  cares,  its  petrifying  selfish- 
ness, its  pride,  its  low  ambition,  and  its  paltry  aims.— 
Charlotte  Bowles. 

AMIABILITY. 

That  you  may  be  beloved,  be  amiable. — Ovid. 
A  modest  woman  is  ever  amiable ;  a  reserved  one  is 
only  prudent. — Rivarol. 


504  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

The  loveliest  faces  are  to  be  seen  by  moonlight,  when 
one  sees  half  with  the  eye  and  half  with  the  fancy. — 
Bovee. 

How  very  easy  it  is  to  be  amiable  in  the  midst  of  hap- 
piness and  success. — Mme.  Swetchine. 

A  virtuous  mind  in  a  fair  body  is,  indeed,  a  fine  pic- 
ture in  a  good  light,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that 
it  makes  the  beautiful  sex  all  over  charms. — Addison. 

Amiable  people,  while  they  are  more  liable  to  imposi- 
tion in  their  casual  contact  with  the  world,  yet  radiate 
so  much  of  mental  sunshine  that  they  are  always  reflected 
in  all  appreciative  hearts. — Mme.  Deluzy. 

ART. 

Moral  beauty  is  the  basis  of  all  true  beauty.  This 
foundation  is  somewhat  covered  and  veiled  in  nat- 
ure. Art  brings  it  out  and  gives  it  more  transparent 
forms.  It  is  here  that  art  when  it  knows  well  its  power 
and  resources,  engages  in  a  struggle  with  nature  in  which 
it  may  have  the  advantage. —  Victor  Cousin. 

The  slight  that  can  be  conveyed  in  a  glance,  in  a  gra- 
cious smile,  in  a  wave  of  the  hand,  is  often  the  ne  plus 
ultra  of  art.  What  insult  is  so  keenly  felt  as  the  polite 
insult,  which  it  is  impossible  to  resent. — Julia  Kavanagh. 

ATTRIBUTES. 

Men,  being  stronger,  are  larger  in  all  things,  even  in 
their  love.  When  they  love,  they  love  better  than  we 
love,  but  less  absorbingly.  We  give  the  whole  of  our 
lives  to  love  ;  they  keep  one  portion  of  theirs  for  work, 
and  another  for  ambition.  Still,  the  half  measure  of  a 


THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN.  505 

gallon  is  more  than  the  full  measure  of  a  pint,  and, 
weight  for  weight,  the  man's  love  is  greater  than  the 
woman's. — E.  Lynn  Lynton. 

Every  woman  is  a  volume  within  herself  if  you  but 
know  how  to  read  her. — CTiamfort. 

No  woman  is  all  sweetness ;  even  the  rose  has  thorns. — 
Mme.  Recamier. 

Woman  is  rather  made  to  be  loved  than  to  love,  like 
the  flowers  which  feel  nothing  of  the  perfume,  but  yield 
it  to  be  felt  by  others. — Alphonse  Esquiros. 

The  crimson  hue  and  silver  tears  become  her  better 
than  any  ornament  of  gold  and  pearls.  These  may  hang 
on  the  neck  of  a  wanton,  but  those  are  never  seen  discon- 
nected with  moral  purity. — GottTiold. 

The  bread  of  life  is  love,  salt  of  life  is  work,  the  sweet- 
ness of  life  is  poesy,  and  the  water  of  life  faith.  A  true 
woman  is  a  compound  of  them  all. — Mrs.  Jameson. 

A  little  acidity  is  not  objectionable  in  a  woman  of 
spirit ;  we  add  lemon  to  make  punch  more  palatable. — 
Bayard  Taylor. 

A  great  woman  not  imperious,  a  fair  woman  not  vain, 
a  woman  of  common  talents  not  jealous,  an  accomplished 
woman  not  eager  to  shine,  are  four  wonders  great  enough 
to  be  divided  among  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. — 
Lavater 

Women  live  only  in  the  tender  emotions. — Fontenelle. 

BEAUTY. 

A  handsome  woman  is  a  jewel ;  a  good  woman  is  a 
treasure.  — Saadi. 


606  WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN   DO. 

Beauty  is  like  an  almanac  ;  if  it  lasts  a  year  it  is  well. — 
Reti.  T.  Adams. 

Beauty  draws  us  with  a  single  hair. — Pope. 

Even  virtue  is  more  fair  when  it  appears  in  a  beautiful 
person. —  Virgil. 

Affect  not  to  despise  beauty, — no  one  is  free  from  its 
dominion  ;  but  regard  it  not  a  pearl  of  price  ;  it  is  fleet- 
ing as  the  bow  in  the  clouds. — Tupper. 

All  orators  are  dumb  when  beauty  pleadeth. — SJiak- 
speare. 

The  influence  of  great  personal  beauty,  unless  sup- 
ported by  force  of  character,  is  ever  short-lived. — Har- 
riet Martineau. 

BEHAVIOR. 

A  woman  is  more  considerate  in  affairs  of  love  than  a 
man,  because  the  love  is  more  the  study  and  business  of 
her  life. —  Washington  Irving. 

The  coy  mistress,  who  makes  her  lover  wrest  every 
favor  from  her,  is  the  successful  one. — Ninon  de  Lenclos. 

Women  should  be  doubly  careful  of  their  conduct, 
since  appearances  often  injure  them,  as  much  as  faults. — 
Abbe  Girard. 

Venus  herself,  if  she  were  bold,  would  not  be  Venus. — 
Apuleius.  , 

BRAVERY. 

There  is  no  love-broker  in  the  world  can  more  prevail 
in  man's  commendation  with  woman  than  report  of 
valor.  — Shakspeare. 

What  will  not  woman,  gentle  woman,  dare  when  strong 
affection  stirs  her  spirit  up  ? — Southey. 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  507 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

All  women  are,  in  some  degree,  poets  in  imagination, 
angels  in  heart,  and  diplomatists  in  mind. — Emanuel 
Gonzales. 

Just  corporeal  enough  to  attest  humanity,  yet  suffi- 
ciently transparent  to  let  the  celestial  origin  shine 
throu  gh .  — Ruffini. 

Men  at  most,  differ  as  heaven  and  earth  ;  but  women, 
worst  and  best,  as  heaven  and  hell. — Tennyson. 

0  woman,  in  ordinary  cases  so  mere  a  mortal,  how,  in 
the  great  and  rare  events  of  life,  dost  thou  swell  into  the 
angel ! — Bulwer-Lytton. 

It  is  easier  for  a  woman  to  defend  her  virtue  against 
men  than  her  reputation  against  women. — Rochebrune. 

It  is  beauty  that  doth  oft  make  women  proud  ;  it  is 
virtue  that  doth  make  them  most  admired  ;  it  is  modesty 
that  makes  them  seem  divine. — Sliakspeare. 

1  think  man  will  always  lead  in  affairs  of  intellect,  of 
reason,  imagination,  understanding, — he  has  the  bigger 
brain ;  but  that  women  will  always  lead  in  affairs  of 
emotion,  moral,  affectional,  religious, — she  has  the  better 
heart,  the  truer  intuition  of  the  right,  the  lovely,  the 
holy. — Theodore  Parker. 

CHARITABLENESS. 

A  woman  who  wants  a  charitable  heart  wants  a  pure 
mind. — Haliburton. 

Large  charity  doth  never  soil,  but  only  whitens,  soft 
hands.  — Lowell. 

The  ideal  woman  feels  that  all  the  children  of  want, — 


508  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

bodily,  mental,  moral  want,  the  infant  of  days  or  the 
man  bowed  with  age, — all  are  children  whom  the  Lord 
has  given  her,  and  over  a  wide  and  ever- widening  circle 
beams  the  radiance  of  her  spotless  motherhood. — Gail 
Hamilton. 

If  a  woman  were  to  try  to  do  the  very  best  for  herself 
in  a  worldly  sense,  she  could  take  no  surer  course  than 
by  fitting  herself  to  confer  the  largest  benefits  on  those 
around  her.  For  her,  then,  I  ask  that  she  shall  be 
trained  so  to  be  best  able  to  do  good. — John  Boyd  Kin- 
near. 

CHEERFULNESS. 

Sighs  and  groans  are  as  disenchanting  as  freckles, 
while  good  cheer  is  the  natural  ally  of  beauty. — Mme. 
de  Lambert. 

Those  there  are  whose  hearts  have  a  look  southward, 
and  are  open  to  the  whole  noon  of  nature ;  be  thou  of 
such. — Bailey. 

Cheerfulness  becomes  a  woman  at  all  times  ;  mirthful- 
ness  requires  a  proper  occasion. — Mme.  Necker. 

Cheerfulness  will  render  the  face  of  a  plain  woman 
handsome,  if  it  be  coupled  with  intellect. — Rivarol. 

Women  wish  to  make  themselves  agreeable  ;  there  is 
no  harm  in  that.  It  is  part  of  their  nature.  But  how 
do  they  expect  to  continue  so,  when  the  attractions  of 
youth  forsake  them  ?  Let  them  make  trial  of  the  temper 
that  looks  on  the  bright  side  of  things  ;  let  them  put  on 
the  spectacles  that  discern  the  bright  side  of  character. 
The  smile  of  such  a  temperament  is  always  admired. — 
Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney. 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT  WOMEN.  509 

I 

A  wise  woman  will  at  all  times  cultivate  a  cheerful 
expectation  of  the  best,  and  thus  become  a  fountain  of 
j  joy  to  all  with  whom  she  associates. — Lady  Blessington. 

Dance,  dance  as  long  as  you  can ;  we  must  travel 
through  life,  but  why  make  a  dead  march  of  it. — Eliza 
CooTc. 

CONTENT. 

The  most  delicate  beauty  in  the  mind  of  women  is,  and 
ever  must  be,  an  independence  of  artificial  stimulants 
for  content.  It  is  not  so  with  men.  The  link  that  binds 
men  to  capitals  belongs  to  the  golden  chain  of  civiliza- 
tion.— the  chain  which  fastens  all  our  destinies  to  the 
throne  of  Jove. — Bulwer-Lytton. 

To  be  content  smilingly  to  lie  on  a  bed  of  roses  while 
they  know  that  thousands  around  them  sleep  on  thorns, — 
this  is  represented  by  all  around  them  as  constituting 
pretty  nearly  the  whole  duty  of  woman.  Thus  practic- 
ing meekly  an  aimless  and  unmeaning  patience  and  self- 
repression,  they  dwindle  down  year  by  year  into  petti- 
ness and  inanity. — Frances  Power  Cobbe. 

Very  few  men  understand  the  true  significance  of  con- 
tentment ;  women  alone  illustrate  it. — Mme.  Deluzy. 

Let  woman  at  once  reject  the  absurd  notion  that  she 
was  created  for  happiness ;  let  her  constitute  herself 
instead  a  creator  of  it ;  let  her  accept  with  joy  the  fact 
this  is  a  working-day  world ;  then  she  will  no  longer 
strive  to  escape  from  labor,  discipline,  or  sorrow,  but 
will  gladly  hail  each  in  its  turn  as  part  of  God's  ap- 
pointed teaching,  a  shadow  crossing  the  sunshine  to 
show  that  it  is  bright. — Caroline  H.  Dall. 


510  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

COUNSEL. 

Let  no  man  value  afc  a  little  price  a  virtuous  woman's 
counsel ;  her  winged  spirit  is  feathered  oftentimes  with 
heavenly  words,  and,  like  her  beauty,  ravishing  and 
pure. — Chapman. 

Always  man  needs  woman  for  his  friend.  He  needs 
her  clearer  vision,  her  subtler  insight,  her  softer  thought, 
her  winged  soul,  her  pure  and  tender  heart.  Always 
woman  needs  man  to  be  her  friend.  She  needs  the  vigor 
of  his  purpose,  the  ardor  of  his  will,  his  calmer  judg- 
ment, his  braver  force  of  action,  his  reverence,  and  his 
devotion. — Mary  Clemmer. 

When  I  read  history  and  am  impressed  with  any  great 
deed,  I  feel  as  if  I  should  like  to  see  the  woman  who  is 
concealed  behind  it,  as  the  secret  incentive. — Heinrich 
Heine. 

Sweet  is  the  voice  of  a  sister  in  the  season  of  sorrow, 
and  wise  is  the  counsel  of  those  who  love  us. — Beacons- 
field. 

Aspasia  did  not  leave  any  philosophical  writings ;  but 
it  is  an  admitted  fact  that  Socrates  resorted  to  her  for 
instruction,  and  avowed  himself  to  have  obtained  it. — 
J.  Stuart  Mill. 

The  counsel  of  a  woman  is  not  worth  much,  but  he 
who  does  not  take  it  is  more  worthless  still. — Cervantes. 

We  have  a  wise  saying,  "Take  a  woman's  first  ad- 
vice," which  is  supplemented  by  the  Italian  maxim, 
"  Women  are  wise  off-hand,  and  fools  on  reflection."-— 
Alfred  de  Musset. 


THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN.  511 

DELICACY. 

Delicacy  in  woman  is  strength. — Lichteriberg. 

Delicacy  is  to  affection  what  grace  is  to  beauty. — 
Mme.  de  Maintenon. 

An  appearance  of  delicacy,  and  even  of  fragility,  is 
almost  essential  to  beauty. — Burke. 

Woman  could  take  part  in  the  processions,  the  songs, 
the  dances  of  old  religion ;  no  one  fancied  her  delicacy 
was  impaired  by  appearing  in  public  for  such  a  cause. — 
Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli. 

To  a  woman  of  delicate  feeling  the  most  persuasive 
declaration  of  love  consists  in  the  embarrassment  of  the 
lover. — Latena. 

The  commonest  man,  who  has  his  ounce  of  sense  and 
feeling,  is  conscious  of  the  difference  between  a  lovely, 
delicate  woman  and  a  coarse  one.  Even  a  dog  feels  a 
difference  in  her  presence.  The  man  may  be  no  better 
able  than  the  dog  to  explain  the  influence  the  more 
refined  beauty  has  on  him,  but  he  feels  it.— George  Eliot. 

Woman,  the  precious  porcelain  of  human  clay! — 
Jeremy  Taylor. 

DEVOTION. 

The  best  part  of  woman's  love  is  worship;  but  it  is 
hard  to  be  sent  away  with  her  precious  spikenard 
rejected,  and  her  long  tresses,  too,  that  were  let  fall 
ready  to  soothe  the  wearied  feet— George  Eliot. 

To  feel,  to  love,  to  suffer,  to  devote  herself,  will  always 
be  the  text  of  the  life  of  woman.—  Balzac. 

That   perfect    disinterestedness  and  self-devotion  of 


512  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO. 

which  men  seem  incapable,  but  which  is  sometimes 
found  in  women. — Macaulay. 

Man  may  content  himself  with  the  applause  of  the 
world  and  the  homage  paid  to  his  intellect,  but  woman's 
heart  has  holier  idols. — Miss  Evans. 

Oh,  only  those  whose  souls  have  felt  this  one  idolatry 
can  tell  how  precious  is  the  slightest  thing  affection 
gives  and  hallows. — L.  E.  Landon. 

DUTIES. 

Can  man  or  woman  choose  duties?  No  more  than 
they  can  choose  their  birthplace,  or  their  father  and 
mother. — George  Eliot. 

To  the  honor,  to  the  eternal  honor,  of  the  sex,  be  it 
stated  that  in  the  path  of  duty  no  sacrifice  is  to  them  too 
high  or  too  dear.  Nothing  is  with  them  impossible,  but 
to  shrink  from  love,  honor,  innocence,  and  religion.  The 
voice  of  pleasure  or  of  power  may  pass  by  unheeded  ; 
but  the  voice  of  affliction  never. — Balfour. 

She  is  so  free,  so  kind,  so  apt,  so  blessed  a  disposition, 
she  holds  it  a  vice  in  her  goodness  not  to  do  more  than 
she  is  requested. — Sticikespeare. 

A  woman's  duties  are  clearly  defined  by  her  own  in- 
stinct.— Mme.  NecTcer. 

We  must  educate  our  maidens  into  what  is  far  better 
than  any  blind  clamor  for  ill-defined  "rights," — into 
what  ought  to  be  the  foundation  of  rights, — duties. — 
Miss  Muloch. 

O  woman  !  thou  knowest  the  hour  when  the  good  man 
of  the  house  will  return,  when  the  heat  and  burden  of 
the  day  are  past ;  do  not  let  him  at  such  time,  when  he 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  513 

is  weary  with  toil,  and  jaded  with  discouragement,  find 
that  the  foot  which  should  hasten  to  meet  him  is  wan- 
dering at  a  distance,  that  the  soft  hand  which  should  wipe 
the  sweat  from  his  brow  is  knocking  at  the  door  of  other 
houses. —  Washington  Irving. 

The  true  way  to  render  ourselves  happy  is  to  love  our 
duty  and  find  in  it  our  pleasure. — Mme.  de  Mottmlle. 

EDUCATION. 

Man  forms  and  educates  the  world,  but  woman  educates 
man. — Julie  Bur  on. 

I  believe  that  for  one  woman  whom  the  pursuits  of 
literature,  the  ambition  of  authorship,  and  the  love  of 
fame,  have  rendered  unfit  for  home-life,  a  thousand  have 
been  made  thoroughly  undomestic  by  poor  social  striv- 
ings, the  follies  of  fashion,  and  the  intoxicating  distinc- 
tion which  mere  personal  beauty  confers. — ^Orace  Oreen^ 
wood. 

School  is  no  place  of  education  for  any  children  what- 
ever till  their  minds  are  well  put  in  action.  This  is  the 
work  which  has  to  be  done  at  home,  and  which  may  be 
done  in  all  homes  where  the  mother  is  a  sensible  woman. 
This  done,  a  good  school  is  a  sort  of  inestimable  advan- 
tage for  cultivating  the  intellect,  and  aiding  the  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge. — Harriet  Martineau. 

Bonaparte  asked  Madame  de  Stael  in  what  manner  he 
could  best  promote  the  happiness  of  France.  Her  reply 
is  full  of  political  wisdom.  She  said,  "  Instruct  the 
mothers  of  the  French  people." — Daniel  Webster. 

We  claim  for  women  a  share  of  the  educational  oppor- 
tunities offered  to  man.  because  we  believe  that  they 

33 


514  WHAT   CAN  A  WOMAN   DO. 

will  never  be  thoroughly  taught  until  they  are  taught  at 
the  same  time,  and  in  the  same  classes. — Caroline  H. 
Doll. 

The  same  education  and  opportunity  for  self-develop- 
ment which  makes  man  a  good  guardian  will  make  a 
woman  a  good  guardian  ;  for  their  original  nature  is  the 
same. — Plato. 

EMPLOYMENT. 

People  cry  out  and  deplore  the  nnremunerative  employ- 
ment of  women.  The  true  want  is  the  other  way. 
Woman  really  trained  and  capable  of  good  work  can 
command  any  wages  or  salaries. — Gail  Hamilton. 

The  question  of  woman's  work  in  its  economic  aspect 
is  really  one  not  so  much  now  of  woman's  rights  as  of 
woman's  mights.  Pretty  much  anything  she  wants  to 
do,  a  resolute  girl  may  now  do. — R.  H.  Newton. 

Let  us  candidly  confess  our  indebtedness  to  the  needle. 
How  many  hours  of  sorrow  has  it  softened,  how  many 
bitter  irritations  calmed,  how  -many  confused  thoughts 
reduced  to  order,  how  many  life-plans  sketched  in  pur- 
ple.— Caroline  H.  Doll. 

At  present  the  most  valuable  gift  which  can  be  bestowed 
on  woman  is  something  to  do,  which  they  can  do  well 
and  worthily  and  thereby  maintain  themselves. — James 
A.  Gar  field. 

As  well  I  remember  the  long  afternoon  buzz  of  the 
wheel  that  turned  the  white  rolls  into  yarn  in  the  chamber 
where  I  was  born,  so  I  know  how  woman  stands  by  the 
distaff,  whence  man  receives  the  precious  stuff  so  pain- 
fully wrought. — Bartol. 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  515 

ENDURANCE. 

I  have  often  had  occasion  to  remark  the  fortitude  with 
which  women  sustain  the  most  overwhelming  reverses  of 
fortune.  Those  disasters  which  break  down  the  spirit  of 
a  man  and  prostrate  him  in  the  dust  seem  to  call  forth 
all  the  energies  of  the  softer  sex,  and  give  such  intrepid- 
ity and  elevation  to  their  character  that  at  times  it 
approaches  to  sublimity. —  Washington  Irving. 

Through  suffering  and  sorrow  thou  hast  passed  to  show 
us  what  a  woman  true  can  be. — Lowell. 

To  the  disgrace  of  men  it  is  seen  that  there  are  women 
both  more  wise  to  judge  what  evil  is  expected,  and  more 
constant  to  bear  it  when  it  happens. — Sir  P.  Sidney. 

The  burden  becomes  light  that  is  shared  by  love. — 
Ovid. 

The  women  of  the  poorer  classes  make  sacrifices,  and 
run  risks,  and  bear  privations,  and  exercise  patience  and 
kindness,  to  a  degree  that  the  world  never  knows  of, 
and  would  scarcely  believe  even  if  it  did  know. — Samuel 
Smiles. 

FACES. 

Features, — the  great  soul's  apparent  seat. —  W.  C. 
Bryant. 

The  face  of  a  woman,  whatever  be  the  force  or  extent 
of  her  mind,  whatever  be  the  importance  of  the  object 
she  pursues,  is  always  an  obstacle  or  a  reason  in  the  story 
of  her  life. — Mme.  de  Stael. 

Men  talk  in  raptures  of  youth  and  beauty,  wit  and 
sprightliness  ;  but  after  seven  years  of  union,  not  one  of 
them  is  to  be  compared  to  good  family  management, 


616  WHAT  CAN  A  WOMAN  DO. 

which  is  seen  at  every  meal,  and  felt  every  hour  in  the 
husband's  purse.  —  Wither  spoon. 

Quite  the  ugliest  face  I  ever  saw  was  that  of  a  woman 
whom  the  world  called  beautiful.  Through  its  "  silver 
veil"  the  evil  and  ungentle  passions  looked  out,  hide- 
ous and  hateful.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  faces 
which  the  multitude  at  first  glance  pronounce  homely, 
unattractive,  and  such  as  "Nature  fashions  by  the  gross," 
which  I  always  recognize  with  a  warm  heart-thrill.  Not 
for  the  world  would  I  have  one  feature  changed  ;  they 
please  me  as  they  are  ;  they  are  hallowed  by  kind  mem- 
ories, and  are  beautiful  through  their  associations. — 
Whittier. 

What  furniture  can  give  such  finish  to  a  room  as  a 
tender  woman' s  face  ?  And  is  there  any  harmony  of 
tints  that  has  such  stirring  of  delight  as  the  sweet  mod- 
ulation of  her  voice  \— George  Eliot. 

Those  faces  which  have  charmed  us  the  most  escape 
ns  the  soonest. —  Walter  Scott. 

The  cheek  is  apter  than  the  tongue  to  tell  an  errand. — 
Shakespeare. 

Some  women's  faces  are,  in  their  brightness,  a  proph- 
ecy, and  some,  in  their  sadness,  a  history. — Dickens. 

FAME. 

In  the  career  of  female  fame,  there  are  few  prizes  to  be 
obtained  which  can  vie  with  the  obscure  state  of  a  beloved 
wife  or  a  happy  mother. — Jane  Porter. 

She  is  best  who  is  least  spoken  of  among  men,  whether 
for  good  or  evil. — Pericles. 

Neglect  is  worse  than  death  to  most  of  us,  and  noto- 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  517 

riety  is  our  version  of  fame,  as  admiration  is  the 
sum  of  our  ambition.  Even  Madame  de  Stael  would 
have  exchanged  her  brains  for  Madame  de  Recamier's 
beauty  ;  poll  the  world  of  woman  honestly  and  not  one 
in  a  thousand  would  dissent  from  her  choice. — E.  Lynn 
Lynton. 

Before  entering  upon  a  career  of  fame,  women  should 
reflect  that,  even  for  fame  itself,  they  must  renounce  the 
happiness  and  repose  destined  for  their  sex,  and  that  in 
this  career  there  are  few  situations  that  can  compare 
with  the  obscure  life  of  an  adored  wife  and  happy 
mother. — Mme.  de  Stael. 

Public  praise  has  no  power  to  fill  up  a  woman's  heart. 
She  wants  home  love,  and  duties,  and  sympathy;  all  the 
rest  is  worth  nothing  without  them. — Florence  Marryat. 

FASCINATIONS. 

But  common  clay  taken  from  the  common  earth, 
moulded  by  God,  and  tempered  by  the  tears  of  angels, 
to  the  perfect  form  of  woman. — Tennyson. 

The  most  fascinating  women  are  those  that  can  most 
enrich  the  every-day  moments  of  existence.  In  a  par- 
ticular and  attaching  sense,  they  are  those  that  can  par- 
take our  pleasures  and  our  pains  in  the  liveliest  and 
most  devoted  manner.  Beauty  is  little  without  this  ; 
with  it  she  is  indeed  triumphant. — Leigh  Hunt. 

In  the  age  of  chivalry  it  was  the  beauty  of  woman 
alone  that  wrestled  successfully  against  barbarism.  She 
softened  the  rude  manners  of  the  warrior,  and  inspired 
the  valorous  knight  with  courage,  generosity,  and  honor ; 
thus  civilizing  by  the  influence  of  her  charms  those 


618  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN   DO. 

whose  hearts  could  not  be  touched  by  any  other  human 
power. — Alexander  Walker. 

Without  the  smile  from  partial  beauty  won,  oh,  what 
were  man  ? — a  world  without  a  sun. — Campbell. 

How  much  wit,  good  nature,  indulgence,  how  many 
good  offices  and  civilities,  are  required  among  friends  to 
accomplish  in  some  years  what  a  lovely  face  or  a  fine 
hand  does  in  a  minute. — Bruyere. 

FORGIVENESS. 

Women  do  not  often  have  it  in  their  power  to  forgive 
like  men,  but  they  forgive  like  Heaven. — Mme.  NecJcer. 

Only  a  woman  will  believe  in  a  man  who  has  once 
been  detected  in  fraud  and  falsehood. — Dumas  Pere. 

She  hugged  the  offender  and  forgave  the  offense, — sex 
to  the  last. — Dryden. 

Receive  no  satisfaction  for  premeditated  impertinence ; 
forget  it,  forgive  it,  but  keep  him  inexorably  at  a  dis- 
tance who  offered  it. — Lavater. 

FRIENDSHIP. 

Female  friendships  are  of  rapid  growth. — Beaconsfield. 

Women,  like  princes,  find  few  real  friends.  ^Lord 
Littleton. 

Perhaps  there  is  nothing  more  lovely  than  the  love  of 
two  beautiful  women,  who  are  not  jealous  of  each  other's 
charms.  — Beaconsfield. 

In  the  forming  of  female  friendships,  beauty  seldom 
recommends  one  woman  to  another. — Fielding. 

The  chief  thing  wanting  between  men  and  women,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  is  friendship.  Of  love  and  poetic  admi- 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN  519 

ration  there  is  an  abundance,  of  course,  and  to  spare. 
The  world  could  not  go  on  without  these  pretty  amenities, 
but  we  want  friendship  far  more  than  all  these. — E, 
Lynn  Lynton. 

A  female  friend,  amiable,  clever,  and  devoted,  is  a  pos- 
session more  valuable  than  parks  and  palaces ;  and, 
without  such  a  muse,  few  men  can  succeed  in  life,  none 
be  content. — Beaconsfield. 

GENTLENESS. 

With  all  women  gentleness  is  the  most  persuasive  and 
powerful  argument. — Theophile  Gautier. 

In  families  well  ordered  there  is  always  one  firm,  sweet 
temper,  which  controls  without  seeming  to  dictate.  The 
Greeks  represented  Persuasion  as  crowned. — Bulwer- 
Lytton. 

Gentleness  in  the  gait  is  what  simplicity  is  in  the 
dress.  Violent  gestures  or  quick  movements  inspire 
involuntary  disrespect. — Balzac. 

The  best  and  simplest  cosmetic  for  women  is  constant 
gentleness  and  sympathy  for  the  noblest  interests  of  her 
fellow  creatures.  This  preserves  and  gives  to  her  fea- 
tures an  indelibly  gay,  fresh  and  agreeable  expression. 
If  women  would  but  realize  that  harshness  makes  them 
ugly,  it  would  prove  the  best  means  of  conversion. — 
Auerbach. 

A  woman's  strength  is  most  potent  when  robed  in  gen- 
tleness.— Lamartine. 

Fearless  gentleness  is  the  most  beautiful  of  feminine 
attractions,  born  of  modesty  and  love. — Mrs.  Balfour. 


520  WHAT   CAN   A   WOMAN  DO, 

GIRLHOOD. 

She  was  in  the  lovely  bloom  and  spring-time  of  woman- 
hood ;  at  that  age  when,  if  ever  angels  be  for  God's  goodf 
purpose  enthroned  in  mortal  forms,  they  may  be,  with- 
out impiety,  supposed  to  abide  in  such  as  hers.  Cast  in 
so  slight  and  exquisite  a  mold,  so  mild  and  gentle,  so 
pure  and  beautiful,  that  earth  seemed  not  her  element, 
nor  its  rough  creatures  her  fit  companions. — Dickens. 

The  presence  of  a  young  girl  is  like  the  presence  of  a 
flower ;  the  one  gives  its  perfume  to  all  that  approach  it, 
the  other  her  grace  to  all  who  surround  her. — L.  Des- 
noyers. 

Girls  we  love  for  what  they  are ;  young  men  for  what 
they  promise  to  be. — Goethe. 

Girls  at  an  early  age  are  not  content  with  being 
pretty ;  they  wish  to  be  thought  so.  We  see  by  their 
little  airs  that  this  care  already  occupies  them ;  and 
scarcely  are  they  capable  of  understanding  what  is  said, 
when  they  may  be  governed  by  telling  them  what  is 
thought  of  them.  The  same  motive  very  indiscreetly 
proposed  to  little  boys  has  no  influence  over  them. — 
Rousseau. 

A  lovely  girl  is  above  all  rank. — Charles  Buxton. 

One  must  always  regret  that  law  of  growth  which  ren- , 
ders  necessary  that  kittens  should  spoil  into  demure 
cats,  and  bright  joyous  school-girls  develop  into  the 
spiritless,  crystallized  beings,  denominated  young  ladies. 
— Abba  Goold  Woolson. 

Signs  are  small,  measurable  things,  but  interpreta- 
tions are  illimitable,  and  in  girls  of  sweet,  ardent  nature, 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT  WOMEN.  521 

every  sign  is  apt  to  conjure  up  wonder,  hope,  belief, 
vast  as  a  sky,  and  colored  by  a  diffused  thimbleful  of 
matter  in  the  shape  of  knowledge. — George  Eliot. 

GRACE  AND  GOODNESS. 

They  are  as  Heaven  made  them,  handsome  enough  if 
they  be  good  enough ;  for  handsome  is  that  handsome 
does. — Goldsmith. 

Her  form  was  fresher  than  the  morning  rose  when  the 
dew  wets  its  leaves  ;  unstained  and  pure  as  is  the  lily  or 
the  mountain  snow.  —  Thomson. 

The  hand  that  hath  made  you  fair  hath  made  you 
good ;  the  goodness  that  is  cheap  in  beauty  makes 
beauty  brief  in  goodness ;  but  grace,  being  the  soul  of 
your  complexion,  should  keep  the  body  of  it  ever  fair. — 
Shakespeare. 

The  loveliest  hair  is  nothing,  if  the  wearer  is  incapable 
of  a  grace.  The  finest  eyes  are  not  fine  if  they  say  noth- 
ing.— Leigh  Hunt. 

What  is  good  looking,  as  Horace  Smith  remarks,  but 
looking  good  ?  Be  good,  be  womanly,  be  gentle,  gener- 
ous in  your  sympathies,  heedful  of  the  well-being  of  all 
around  you,  and,  my  word  for  it,  you  will  not  lack  kind 
words  of  admiration.  Loving  and  pleasant  associations 
will  gather  about  you.  Never  mind  the  ugly  reflection 
which  your  glass  may  give  you.  The  mirror  has  no 
heart ;  but  quite  another  picture  is  yours  on  the  retinas 
of  human  sympathy. —  Whittier. 

Grace  has  been  defined  the  outward  expression  of  the 
inward  harmony  of  the  soul. — Hazlitt. 


£22  WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN   DO. 

HAPPINESS. 

The  most  happy  women  in  the  interior  of  their  houses 
are  those  who  have  married  sensible  men.  The  latter 
suffer  themselves  to  be  governed  with  so  much  the  more 
pleasure,  as  they  are  always  masters  of  themselves. — 
Prince  de  Ligne. 

The  happiness  which  we  enjoy  is  realized  in  anticipation, 
not  in  fruition.  Landor  has  said  very  finely,  * '  Happiness 
is  like  the  statue  of  Isis,  whose  veil  no  mortal  ever 
raised." — Anna  Cora  Mowatt. 

Our  happiness  in  this  world  depends  upon  the  affec- 
tions we  are  enabled  to  inspire. — Duchesse  de  Praslin. 

Happiness  is  woman's  rarest  cosmetic. — G.  J.  W.  Mel- 
mile. 

The  happiness  that  is  quite  understood  at  last  becomes 
tiresome ;  to  give  it  zest  we  must  have  ups  and  downs  ; 
the  difficulties  which  are  usually  mingled  with  love 
awaken  passion  and  increase  pleasure. — Moliere. 

Happy  in  this,  she  is  not  yet  so  old  but  she  may  learn ; 
and  happier  than  this,  she  is  not  bred  so  dull  but  she 
can  learn  ;  happiest  of  all  is,  that  her  gentle  spirit  com- 
mits itself  to  yours,  to  be  directed. — Shakespeare. 

HEALTH. 

Our  dainty  notions  have  made  women  such  hot-house 
plants  that  one  half  the  sex  are  invalids. —  Wendell  Phil- 
lips. 

Doubtless  there  are  few  things  more  important  to  a 
community  than  the  health  of  its  women.  The  Sand- 
wich Island  proverb  says:  "If  strong  is  the  frame  of 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT   WOMEN.  523 

the  mother,  the  son  will  give  laws  to  the  people."  And 
in  nations  where  all  men  give  laws,  all  men  need  mothers 
of  strong  frames. — Higginson. 

Michelet  tells  the  sentimental  world  that  woman  is  an 
exquisite  invalid,  with  a  perennial  headache  and  nerves 
perpetually  on  the  rack.  It  is  a  mistake.  When  I  gaze 
upon  German  and  French  peasant- women,  I  ask  Michelet 
which  is  right,  he  or  nature. — Kate  Field. 

Gracefulness  cannot  subsist  without  ease  ;  delicacy  is 
not  debility ;  nor  must  a  woman  be  sick  in  order  to 
please.  Infirmity  and  sickness  may  excite  our  pity,  but 
desire  and  pleasure  require  the  bloom  and  vigor  of 
health. — Rosseau. 

The  requirements  of  health  and  the  style  of  female 
attire  which  custom  enjoins  are  in  direct  antagonism  to 
each  other. — Abba  Goold  Woolson. 

American  ladies  are  known  abroad  for  two  distinguish- 
ing traits  (besides,  possibly,  their  beauty  and  self-reli- 
ance), and  these  are  their  ill-health  and  their  extravagant 
devotion  to  dress. — Abba  Goold  Woolson. 

HEARTS. 

Oh,  if  the  loving,  closed  heart  of  a  good  woman  should 
open  before  a  man,  how  much  controlled  tenderness, 
how  many  veiled  sacrifices  and  dumb  virtues,  would  be 
seen  reposing  there. — Richter. 

A  human  heart  can  never  grow  old  if  it  takes  a  lively 
interest  in  the  pairing  of  birds,  the  reproduction  of  flow- 
ers, and  the  changing  tints  of  autumn  leaves. — Mrs. 
Lydia  M.  Child. 


WHAT   CAN   A  WOMAN  DO. 

There  is  in  the  heart  of  women  such  a  deep  well  of  love 
that  no  age  can  freeze  it. — Bulwer-Lytton. 

A  womans  heart  is  just  like  a  lithographer's  stone, 
what  is  once  written  upon  it  cannot  be  rubbed  out. — 
TJiacJceray. 

Where  there  is  room  in  the  heart,  there  is  always  room 
in  the  house. — Moore. 

There  are  no  little  events  with  the  heart.  It  magnifies 
everything ;  it  places  in  the  same  scale  the  fall  of  an 
empire  and  the  dropping  of  a  woman' s  glove,  and  almost 
always  the  glove  weighs  more  than  the  empire. — Balzac. 

The  more  heart,  the  more  sorrow  ;  the  less  heart,  the 
less  of  tender  sensibility  to  loveliness. — Mme.  Neclcer. 

The  human  heart  has  of  course  its  pouting  fits  ;  it 
determines  to  live  alone ;  to  flee  into  desert  places  ;  to 
have  no  employment,  that  is,  to  love  nothing ;  but  to  keep 
on  sullenly  beating,  beating,  beating,  until  death  lays 
his  little  finger  on  the  sulky  thing,  and  all  is  still.  It 
goes  away  from  the  world,  and  straightway,  shut  from 
human  company,  it  falls  in  love  with  a  plant,  a  stone  ; 
yea,  it  dandles  cat  or  dog,  and  calls  the  creature  darling. 
Yes,  it  is  the  beautiful  necessity  of  our  nature  to  love 
something. — Douglas  Jerrold. 

Without  hearts  there  is  no  home. — Byron. 

HOME. 

A  house  is  no  home  unless  it  contains  food  and  fire  for 
the  mind  as  well  as  for  the  body.  For  human  beings  are 
not  so  constituted  that  they  can  live  without  expansion. 
If  they  do  not  get  it  in  one  way,  they  must  in  another, 
or  perish. — Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli. 


THOUGHTS   ABOUT  WOMEN. 


525 


Our  natural  and  happiest  life  is  when  we  lose  ourselves 
in  the  exquisite  absorption  of  home,  the  delicious  retire- 
ment of  dependent  love. — Miss  Muloch. 

Home  is  the  grandest  of  all  institutions. — Srpurgeon. 

In  family  government  let  this  be  always  remembered, 
that  no  reproof  or  denunciation  is  so  potent  as  the  silent 
influence  of  a  good  example. — Hosea  Ballon. 

It  is  a  woman,  and  only  a  woman, — a  woman  all  by 
herself,  if  she  likes,  and  without  any  man  to  help  her, — 
who  can  turn  a  house  into  a  home. — Frances  Power 
Coble. 

I  value  this  delicious  home-feeling  as  one  of  the 
choicest  gifts  a  parent  can  bestow. —  Washington  Irving. 

INFLUENCE. 

If  you  would  know  the  political  and  moral  condition 
of  a  people,  ask  as  to  the  condition  of  its  women. — Aime 
Martin. 

All  amusements  of  youth  to  which  virtuous  women 
are  not  admitted  are,  rely  on  it,  deleterious  in  their  nat- 
ure. All  men  who  avoid  female  society  have  dull  per- 
ceptions and  are  stupid,  or  have  gross  tastes  and  revolt 
against  what  is  pure. — Thackeray. 

Men  make  laws  ;  women  make  manners. — De  Segur. 

If  woman  lost  us  Eden,  such  as  she  alone  can  restore 
it. —  Whittier. 

Women  govern  us  ;  let  us  render  them  perfect ;  the 
more  they  are  enlightened,  so  much  the  more  shall  we 
be.  On  the  cultivation  of  the  mind  of  women  depends 
the  wisdom  of  men.  It  is  by  women  that  nature  writes 
on  the  hearts  of  men. — Sheridan. 


626  WHAT  CAN  A   WOMAN   DO 

Few  great  men  have  flourished  who,  were  they  candid, 
would  not  acknowledge  the  vast  advantage  they  have 
experienced  in  the  earlier  years  of  their  career  from  the 
spirit  and  sympathy  of  woman. — Beaconsfield. 

LITERARY   PURSUITS. 

Women  excel  more  in  literary  judgment  than  in  liter- 
ary production, — they  are  better  critics  than  authors. — 
Lady  Blessington. 

The  purity  and  goodness  of  woman  have  done  their 
proper  work  in  the  literature  of  the  times.  They  have 
greatly  contributed  to  chasten  the  morals  of  literature, 
and  establish  a  code  of  laws  by  which  offenses  against 
decency  are  condemned  as  offenses  against  taste.  While 
she  uses  the  pen,  she  must  always  use  it  to  inculcate  the 
graces  which  she  loves,  and  in  which  she  herself  excels. 
— F.  W.  P.  Greenwood. 

MOTHER. 

I  think  it  must  somewhere  be  written  that  the  virtues 
of  mothers  shall,  occasionally,  be  visited  on  their  chil- 
dren, as  well  as  the  sins  of  the  fathers. — Dickens. 

Stories  first  heard  at  a  mother' s  knee  are  never  wholly 
forgotten, — a  little  spring  that  never  quite  dries  up  in  our 
journey  through  scorching  years. — Ruffini 

The  future  destiny  of  the  child  is  always  the  work  of 
the  mother. — Napoleon. 

Mothers,  when  your  children  are  irritable,  do  not  make 
them  more  so  by  scolding  and  fault-finding,  but  correct 
their  irritability  by  good  nature  and  mirthfulness.  Irri- 
tability comes  from  errors  in  food,  bad  air,  too  little 


THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN.  527 

sleep,  a  necessity  for  change  of  scene  and  surroundings  ; 
from  confinement  in  close  rooms,  and  lack  of  sunshine. 
— Herbert  Spencer. 

Men  are  what  their  mothers  made  them.  You  may  as 
well  ask  a  loom  which  weaves  huckabuck  why  it  does 
not  make  cashmere,  as  to  expect  poetry  from  this  en- 
gineer, or  a  chemical  discovery  from  that  jobber. — 
Emerson. 

Youth  fades ;  love  droops ;  the  leaves  of  friendship 
fall ;  a  mother's  secret  hope  outlives  them  all. — Holmes. 

I  believe  I  should  have  been  swept  away  by  the  flood 
of  French  infidelity  if  it  had  not  been  for  one  thing :  the 
remembrance  of  the  time  when  my  sainted  mother  used 
to  make  me  kneel  by  her  side,  taking  my  little  hands 
folded  in  hers,  and  cause  me  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
— Thomas  Randolph. 

The  mother's  heart  is  the  child's  school-room. — 
Beecher. 

Even  He  that  died  for  us  upon  the  cross,  in  the  last 
hour,  in  the  unutterable  agony  of  death,  was  mindful  of 
his  mother,  as  if  to  teach  us  that  this  holy  love  should 
be  our  last  worldly  thought, — the  last  point  of  earth  from 
which  the  soul  should  take  its  flight  for  heaven. — Long- 
fellow. 

Holy  as  heaven  a  mother's  tender  love, — the  love  of 
many  prayers  and  many  tears,  which  changes  not  with 
dim,  declining  years. — Mrs.  Norton. 

EELIGION. 

Religion  is  indeed  woman's  panoply;  no  one  who 
wishes  her  happiness  would  divest  her  of  it ;  no  one 


528 


WHAT   CAN  A   WOMAN  DO. 


who  appreciates  her  virtues  would  weaken  their  best 
security. — Sandford. 

Earth  has  nothing  more  tender  than  a  woman's  heart, 
when  it  is  the  abode  of  piety. — Luther. 

Reverence  the  highest,  have  patience  with  the  lowest. 
Let  this  day's  performance  of  the  meanest  duty  be  thy 
religion.  Are  the  stars  too  distant,  pick  up  the  pebble 
that  lies  at  thy  feet,  and  from  it  learn  the  all. — Mar- 
garet Fuller  Ossoli. 

No  man  can  either  live  piously  or  die  righteously  with- 
out a  wife. — RicJiter. 

The  only  impregnable  citadel  of  virtue  is  religion  ;  for 
there  is  no  bulwark  of  mere  morality  which  some  temp- 
tation may  not  overtop  or  undermine,  and  destroy. — Sir 
P.  Sidney. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 


